


Weapon

by Jade_Tatsu



Series: Shadowed Light [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Adventure, Anal Sex, Bonding, Consentual Sex, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Slash, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 38
Words: 347,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Tatsu/pseuds/Jade_Tatsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius' Rebellion failed which saved the Light and now the true battle against the Dark begins. All forces that can fight are frantically being mustered behind the Order of the Phoenix and their weapon - Harry Potter. </p>
<p>But perhaps not everyone is as anxious to see the Dark fall as it would seem. </p>
<p>Harry is working with the Order and the Ministry and his servants are playing all sides of the game but can he remain undetected and keep his promise to his beloved Lord Voldemort? Or will they end up fighting together, a long drawn out battle over years with no peace, no end in sight? </p>
<p>Chapter structure re-worked for AO3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Sex, blood, gore, torture, slash, shounen-ai, yaoi, homosexual, gay or whatever you want to call it. If you don't like or tolerate, don't read.
> 
> This is the sequel to 'Possession' and starts off almost directly from where 'Possession' ends. It's not entirely necessary to read 'Possession', but it would probably help enormously. It is still HP/LV but for the moment, I'm concentrating on advancing their story. Enjoy.
> 
> Technically Harry is under-aged hence the warning.
> 
> The chapter structure has been re-worked for AO3, merging chapters into each other to make them longer but the text is the same.

Weapon  
Chapter 1 Reflections

===

           **D** umbledore sat in his office watching flickering flames. Fawkes was crooning softly and the song was comforting. He needed it now, needed all the comfort he could get. Outside the night was cold, cloudless and the light from the stars glittered harshly reminding him that no matter how well things seemed to be going there was always a chance that something would go wrong.

           He didn't need the reminder. He never needed the reminder.

           His blue eyes were tired.

           He supposed he should be sitting with Harry but at the moment Poppy was treating the boy and both Remus and his Godfather were attending him. Nothing was going to go near Harry for a while.

           After Hagrid had brought Harry to the castle, they'd managed to get him into a private section of the infirmary without anyone knowing, and he had used his authority to spell bind both the Aurors and Hagrid into silence. They'd searched the area Harry had appeared in but had found nothing. As Hagrid had claimed, the boy had just appeared, obviously apparating into the Hogwarts wards.

           The Aurors had choked on the thought of the amount of power necessary to do that but he had just nodded, knowing that Harry had that power and more. Hagrid hadn't even cared, not about that anyway, he only cared that the young man was safe. Still it had fallen to Dumbledore to calm the Aurors, reassuring them that everything was okay and spinning for them the blatant lie that Harry had only been able to do it because he was very stressed and had called forth the wild magic unconsciously.

           Dumbledore looked upwards, closing his eyes, stroking Fawkes.

           So much had changed in the last twenty:four hours and he needed to be alone to consider everything. He had been planning the battle against Tom for decades and his plans took everything into consideration. There had been set backs; he had never expected to lose both Lily and James. There had been changes; he hadn't anticipated the _complete_ ineptitude of the Ministry but never that there been a time when he thought he had got everything wrong.

           He had never expected Tom's forces to be so strong.

           They should have lost last night.

           He had never expected to see rebellion within the ranks of Death Eaters.

           That was the only reason they hadn't lost last night, the only reason they had this chance to train, to fight but he had thought Tom would have kept a closer eye on them, kept his forces loyal only to him or destroyed the Rebellion long before it impacted upon him.

           He had never expected the Vampires to get involved.

           They had never before shown interest in the squabbles of Wizards, remaining aloof and powerful, eternally evil and assured of their own ability. They had always watched, even when approached, they would only train a select few in the Dark Arts but never interfered themselves, no matter what happened. It was understood that if, _when_ wizards controlled their forces well enough, then the ancient enmity would be renewed.

           He had never expected the Aurors to be so ineffective.

           They were trained by the best, they could fight, they were skilful but their magic was weak and against an opponent who knew all their spells, it was a test of strength, and they had been found sorely lacking. It could be corrected but it would take time.

           He had never expected Tom to develop feelings for Harry.

           The torn robes, broken bones and lingering effects of the cruciatus curse hadn't hidden all the evidence. He was sure, that if Tom had willed it, there would not have been a mark on the boy but the Dark Lord wanted them to know. Tom wanted them to know the full extent of his power that despite everything that was happening he still had time to mete out more personal torture.

           Of course Tom probably didn't think about it like that and by the marks on Harry he had taken some care.

           Crucio had left its mark, so had the more mundane beatings but while there was semen there was no evidence beyond that of sexual assault. The Dark Lord had prepared Harry's body properly before he had raped him or else he'd used a potion. There was no bleeding or tearing. It was a small mercy, one that did not in any way make the act forgivable but at least the physical pain of rape was not something Harry would have to experience again.

           So where did he go from here?

           _Regroup._

           Everyone had to regroup now. Elliot had been pushing the virtues of the Order and it would be up to him to make sure that when the Ministry came looking they were ready. They would need more than strength to fight and if the Ministry found them lacking...

           Dumbledore suppressed a shiver. If the Ministry found weakness within the Order, Tom would find it faster and be far more ruthless. They would have to hold a full meeting soon, so that he could outline the future.

           Tom... He too would be regrouping after Lucius' Rebellion. No doubt he would purge the Death Eaters and a new wave of recruitment would start, together with a new wave of terror. But that would give the Order the time he needed.

           Blue eyes opened, looking back into the flames. As soon as Harry was recovered enough to walk on his own he would be inducted into the Order, the dangers of him knowing too much were now far outstripped by the dangers of not being able to protect him. He could only give thanks to the powers that be, that they had seen fit to return Harry to him again.

           _Training._

           _Harry._

           Harry needed it. If he was still calling upon the wild magic, he needed it more than ever, or was his apparation into the Hogwarts wards indicative of the ancient power he had inherited. Dumbledore shook his head, looking back into the flames as Fawkes trilled, butting his fire plumage into the ancient hand. Either way, Harry needed to be trained. Only he could become the weapon and from what the boy had said to him, beaten and battered, half conscious and in so much pain that the old wizard had been surprised he could even speak, the boy was willing to become that weapon, would sacrifice himself to see the Dark Lord fall. At least he hadn't been seduced by Tom's charisma.

           "You will not die, Harry," Dumbledore murmured. "Your power will not allow it, not unless you are taking him with you, but you will have to sacrifice everything else. I'm sorry, more sorry than you will ever know, but this is the only way."

           Fawkes blinked ruby eyes but nodded, as he trilled his question.

           Dumbledore looked down at the phoenix. "Yes, it is unfair for us to place our expectations on him, to expect all our mistakes to be rectified by the following generation but there is no choice. I do not expect him to forgive me Fawkes, I do not expect him to like me and I will not be surprised if as soon as Voldemort is vanquished he turns his wand on me but Harry is the only one who can do this and I will accept whatever punishment he inflicts for doing this to him."

           The bird nodded again, crooning sadly.

           "I know Fawkes, I know," he whispered before becoming lost in his thoughts again.

           Harry needed training and he would provide that training but by the time he was done, the boy would hate him and would most probably be scorned by the rest of wizarding society simply because he would be unstoppable, and so powerful. Wizards were not known, after all for their acceptance of those far more powerful than themselves, not unless they were convinced there was no threat, or unless they knew they could control it. But Harry would be an uncontrollable threat and that would be unacceptable. If they were stupid they would try to kill him, and that would be a huge mistake. If they actually learned something during the battles that were to come, they would try to recruit him and that was the best outcome he could hope for.

           There would only be a select few who would accept him without seeing the power.

           Albus shook his head, no matter what happened, he would do his best to enlarge that select few as much as possible. It would be the least he could do and it could be the only way of stopping Harry from becoming the next Voldemort.

           He deliberately turned his thoughts away from the young Gryffindor, upon which so much depended. He could make plans but he would need to speak with Harry before anything solid could be determined. He would not make the same mistake as he had made with Tom, even if he still didn't fully understand what had driven the promising young man into the Dark Arts. No matter what Tom said, he had done everything he could.

           _The Aurors._

           For centuries they had been the Wizarding World's first line of defence. They had also been the last line of defence for Dark Lord had ever managed to drive them so far back. But Voldemort was not just a Dark Lord, and his forces had proven themselves to be well trained, and well organised, almost ridiculously so. And in proving it, they shown how badly defended the Ministry was. Gindlewald's forces had never even gotten close but it appeared Tom had learnt from the mistakes of the past.

           The Aurors would need to be trained. Their skills were not lacking. They knew the spells, they knew how to fight but they could not translate their skills into strength. They were unsure of themselves and after recent events, they were not likely to be gaining any moral soon. He would have to work on that as they could not be allowed to continue as they were. They needed to fight the Death Eaters and win. That was the only way to give them the confidence boost but until then perhaps combined training with the Order would help.

           Yes, that was the only thing he could give them. The Ministry would have to work out their own plans and the Department of Mysteries Unspeakables would probably initiate their own training plans.

           _The Students._

           They would need training as well. As much as it would cause problems with the Ministry Remus needed to return. He was the only teacher capable of progressing all the year levels through at least basic practical self defence against the Dark Arts, and everyone would need that as quickly as possible. Although... If he sold it right... He could always make the pitch to the Ministry that showing a willingness to employ and support Werewolves would serve to help them resist the inevitable advances from the Dark Lord.

           And right now, they needed to deprive Tom of every ally they could. It couldn't be like 15 years ago. They could not afford that arrogance.

           _Allies._

           There were precious few they could call upon now.

           They were using just about every resource in the Isles and while they could call upon Europe, they could only expect a limited response. The European Ministries just weren't capable of fighting well, they had never been as developed as the Isles. Oh, they were competent enough in upholding the decrees of the International Confederation of Wizards, and with dealing with their own ghouls and horrors, but when it came to large scale warfare within their ranks, they had only a limited conception about how to fight. They looked to the Isles for guidance.

           Western Europe would help as best they could. Eastern Europe was the vanguard in the battle against the Vampires and was too intimately involved with that to fight, even if they wanted to.

           Asia was almost a complete unknown. Well, a complete provincial unknown. They had never shown the slightest interest in the politics of their brethren but equally they had never displayed any internal disputes. No matter what was happening they presented the same neutral, exquisitely polite face to the rest of the world and Dumbledore had a suspicion that they would continue to do so for the foreseeable future, no matter who won this conflict. Their motto was unashamedly, ignore us and we will ignore you. There would be no help coming from there, but neither could the Dark Lord expect their support.

           He sighed.

           Africa was worse. Magic there was almost as splintered as the Muggle Nations. They were capable of some highly skilful and devastating charms but were so tied up with internal tribal conflicts that they barely heeded the rest of the world. Even Egypt, with its ancient magical culture was so tied up in preserving the past that they could barely see the future. The southern wizards were worse. Again, no help would be forthcoming.

           Which left the Americas and Oceania...

           North America had a powerful wizarding presence and they would sense the need to help out their European counterparts for if Europe was to fall to the Dark Lord they would find themselves next on his target list. The Order had some members there but recruitment was hindered by the presence of their own equivalent Order. Still, he could expect some help. If nothing else they could advise on the best methods of concealment from Muggles since they, of all wizarding societies took great pride in their ability to hide and that applied to both the native and immigrant wizards.

           Central and South America were much like Africa. They weren't quite as bad but they were more concerned with showing that they were better than their northern counterparts. Perhaps that was a way of recruiting them though... Dumbledore frowned. Yes, perhaps that could be used to his advantage although with the promises Tom was likely to make, he couldn't rule out some of them throwing their lot in with the Dark Lord.

           Oceania was splintered like Africa but at least the factions worked together when it was in their interest. The population was sparse but they would help. They, like the Americas remembered their roots. Well, they did when it suited them.

           As a last resort though, they could use both places as a refugee point, shipping out those who were too young or too old to fight.

           _No! It was not going to come to that,_ Dumbledore thought firmly.

           It was not going to come to that.

           He would not let it.

           He ran his aged hand over Fawkes again, drawing strength from the bird. His plumage was as beautiful as ever and right now the phoenix was in his prime. Strong, powerful, with a song that would give courage to anyone.

           "I'll need your power as well," the ancient wizard said softly.

           Fawkes responded, thrilling sympathetically and spreading his wings in a traditional display. The mottled fire patterns seemed to move in the uncertain light, making the bird even more beautiful.

           "We'll need the Unicorns as well, if they can be persuaded, and the Centaurs. Everyone and everything that can fight against the darkness must join together or I fear all will be lost."

           Another quiet croon conveyed the question.

           "Yes," Dumbledore couldn't help but smile slightly. "Even Hagrid's pets if they will help, then we will fight with them."

           The bird looked up at him, slightly reproachful that he had not said the most important thing before he flew to his pitch, singing kindly once more.

           "You are right. Harry is the Key. Without him, we cannot fight, and without him there is no hope for victory. We will fight Voldemort, but Harry will be the one who wins. He is the only one who can."

===

           **X** eoaph ached. It was an unusual sensation for the ancient Vampire since he normally felt nothing but it was not a feeling he enjoyed. He supposed it was because he had used so much Wizard Magic over the last few days, lent his strength too deeply and it was now impacting upon him with this aching lethargy.

           The fact that the chamber he was in was half empty wasn't adding to his mood. He had lived for a very long time and he prided himself on neutralising threats to himself and his children efficiently but here he was aching, with fully half his children dead, all killed by one man : if man it had been : all in one night. He snarled at the memory. Whatever that thing had been it would be begging him for forgiveness, for release before he was through with it.

           It was high noon at the moment and the others were sluggish, sleeping, concentrating on healing themselves. They were avoiding him, although they had seen to it that he had fed, throwing a muggle child in his direction. He'd discarded the desiccated remains earlier and even though such a slaughter would usually have calmed him, this time, it did nothing.

           He closed blue eyes when he realised what was wrong.

           He was worried.

           And he had not been worried for centuries.

           He had watched Dark Lords come and go, heard the Wizards proclaim each one more vile, more evil that the last, and had watched as they struggled against them, sacrificing themselves but never rectifying the causes. Dark Lord after Dark Lord had arisen, not always from the same bloodlines but often spouting the same supremist nonsense. You'd think that after the first two or three, the wizards as a whole would look at their views and society, at least try to understand why Dark Lord after Dark Lord could rise with the same philosophy and find followers in every generation.

           But no. The Wizards were the worst reflection of Muggles in that way, no matter how they tried to call themselves enlightened. Muggles had the same problems but at least _some_ of them tried to understand and tried to act. It didn't always work and it most often took a massacre before enough of them took notice, but at least they tried.

           It seemed ages ago that he remembered hearing of a new Dark Lord, rising from the ashes of Grindlewald's defeat. He'd thought nothing of it except to think that this one was moving quickly. The vampires had quickly discovered though that this particular Dark Lord, this Voldemort, had all of Grindlewald's ambitions and more than enough power to back his desires. At least initially, but then like all Dark Lords, his desires outstripped his power.

           And then fifteen years ago it appeared over. He'd tried to take on someone too powerful for him, someone who was willing to sacrifice themselves, body and soul for another and in that instant the self:styled Lord Voldemort learnt the final truth about Light and Dark. Without Light there was no Dark, and without Dark there was no Light and that one would never allow the other to become all powerful. And so it was, with a mothers sacrifice and the power of a babe, that the Dark Lord Voldemort brought low.

           A fitting end to one whose ambitions had become unsuited for a mortal.

           No matter how powerful, all Dark Lords were bound by the same fact, a fact they seemed to conveniently forget, the fact that no mortal could entirely forsake the light.

           Not unless you were a vampire but they were not mortal.

           "We are the Dark," Xeoaph whispered the words his Master had told him eons ago, "because we have embraced the eternal Dark."

           The words did not bring him comfort.

           He could remember other Dark Lord's who had rallied from what seemed death, but those were more like the last rattling gurgle before true death took them. The Light was always quick to crush their last desperate gamble.

           But that had not happened to Voldemort.

           The Wizards had ignored the one who had brought them the news of his return. Forsaken and ridiculed he had gone to the few who believed him but even they could not launch an attack against the Dark Lord. It had not been until the Dark Lord himself had appeared in public, killing the insipid Minister of Magic had the British Wizarding Community taken the Lord Voldemort's return seriously.

           And by then it had been too late.

           The Dark Lord had been allowed to gather his forces, human and otherwise, and had honed them into a formidable fighting force that he had directed against the forces of Light with all the skill he possessed, his arrogance growing until he had dared to challenge the Vampires.

           _Arrogance..?_

           The question was quiet in his mind.

            _Was it really arrogance?_

           He shivered as he remembered the power Voldemort had shown him, the power that had twisted through his body for an instant that seemed longer than his two eons of life.

           _If he uses that power, is it really arrogance?_

           His mind would not let him forget.

           Centuries ago, when he had still been with his creator, his master, that ancient Vampire had told him a story. It was a story he had thought only fiction but it now seemed to hold more truth that he had originally thought. Xeoaph did not know why he remembered it. In fact, in the intervening centuries he was sure he had forgotten it, but exposure to that power that Voldemort had inflicted upon him had brought the memory back, and he heard the words hammering through his mind as if his master was standing behind him, whispering.

           _"Remember this, my childe. No mortal is ever pure light or pure dark but there are those so light that they can control the dark, and those so dark that they control the light. I met one once, many years ago, he was the light that controlled the dark. He was very powerful but he was afraid of his own power and the three with him were not helping him. Still my childe, the warning was enough. If you ever find these mortals, do not fight them for should there be one who accepts their power, all the world shall bow to their desires."_

_"Surely not us, Master."_

_"_ All _the world."_

           Xeoaph had been arrogant then, sure of a vampire's power but soon after his Master had left him to fend for himself and he had learnt that being the true Darkness was not enough to survive and from then his education had truly begun. In time he'd learnt who his Master had spoken of and while he had never met one like those his Master knew, he began to appreciate their power.

           One thousand years. It had been that long since his master had met that mortal, and now there was another who controlled that power.

           Lord Voldemort.

           _No!_ Xeoaph shook his head. _He said himself he wasn't the master._

           'Stay away from my pet.'

           _But he is proclaiming power over the one who is._

           Blue eyes closed as the elder Vampire forced himself to remember.

           The Dark Lord had used the lance of power against him and it had hurt. It had only been an instant but it had hurt like an eternity and it had damaged him, but it was damage he had quickly recovered from to stand before that human Lord with all the assurance of one of his species.

           And then the Lord had claimed he wasn't the master of such power.

           _That_ had been both confusing and insulting. To use such power, but then to claim no mastery.

           He had seen, standing behind him, indistinct but compellingly beautiful and powerful the online of another when the Lord Voldemort had indicated that he should look.

           It was that one, he supposed who held the power over dark because Xeoaph _knew_ that the Dark Lord Voldemort had too much dark within him to truly control it. But he had used the power of Dark and there was only one way for a Dark Lord to use the power of dark... only one way.

           He'd seen the Dark Lords rise and fall. He knew that they were all petty mortals with nothing but arrogant pride in their own abilities but he did make the time to meet them as he met with all humans of interest, light or dark.

           Thirty years ago, he'd posed as nothing more than a fledging Vampire and had gone to see the Dark Lord, just to confirm to himself that he was an arrogant mortal. He had not been surprised, just as he had not been surprised when he'd met Grindlewald, Hathor, or Morgan. They were all only human.

           In fact there had only been one human who had surprised him in the last few centuries, Albus Dumbledore, the man who had personally felled Grindlewald and who was now leading the fight against Voldemort. The man was of the Light but he had aspects of Dark so profound that Xeoaph had almost been confused when he met him. It had taken a few moments for him to see which side Dumbledore was truly on and he had relaxed. The now old wizard was not balanced, there was only one who was, if wizard he was.

           Mortals, human, animal, it did not matter, were either Light or Dark even if they didn't realise it themselves. In all his years of life Xeoaph had only met one who was balanced, containing equal Light and Dark, and he was almost sure that his master had never met anyone either. When he'd first met him, Xeoaph had been learning wizard magic and he would have sworn the man was human, creepy, with far too many insights, but mortal. Seeing as how the man was still alive today, several centuries later, the assumption of mortality was beginning to wear thin. He was not one who sustained himself with a Philosopher's stone, those temporary immortals had a peculiar smell, he did it some other way. It was a curiosity to the vampire, but not such a large one that he felt the need to find the answer.

           Whatever it was though, it was a way both Light and Dark would kill for but had never come close.

           Unless of course Voldemort had. Fifteen years ago he had been reduced to a spirit, wandering the wilderness, gaining strength from the wild animals, creatures too weak to be able to resist him. And then, almost two years ago now, he had regained a body. His original body was gone but he had composed a new body, one that was stronger but less human. And then two days ago, in the midst of fulfilling the dreams of all Dark Lords, he had been struck down, killed with the one curse that had forever been fatal.

           'Vengeance will be mine.'

           The words of a dying Dark Lord.

           He would have paid them no heed, except for what happened then. The Rebellion should have won. With Voldemort dead, that final proof Xeoaph had been seeking, the Death Eaters should have scattered, to be cut down by their colleagues, or the Ministry. But nothing of the sort had happened. Lucius Malfoy, with his backing, should have won, not that he'd intended to back the blond for much longer. His only aim had been to restore the wizarding community back to its temporary and precarious balance, so that his kind could continue to marshal their strength.

           _Who were those two?_

           Black robes and inky black power. They had driven all assumptions away leaving only questions.

           Were they the power behind Voldemort?

           Was this new Voldemort only a construct from their power?

           Which one of them held dominance?

           What was their power?

           And why did they seem confident of resurrecting the fallen Dark Lord?

           Was Voldemort truly _the_ Dark Lord? Or was he a pawn for such a being?

           If Voldemort was truly alive once again, then perhaps he was worthy of the regard given to him by the wizards, worthy of that title they gave all Dark Lords, 'Most Evil'. But if he lived, did he live because of the power of those two, or through the power inheritant in a vampire's blood, or through his own ability? If he lived through their power, was he a puppet, or were they manifestations of the Dark that only served the true Lord? Or was Voldemort still nothing more that, a mortal, who tenaciously clung to life?

           The battle just past had raised too many questions that had no answers and he could not afford to make assumptions.

           _If what he told me is true, then he cannot wield the power of the Dark, so he is only a Dark Lord, not the Dark Lord._

_However, he did wield it for an instant so he must know who the Dark Lord is, and he must in some way be able to communicate with them, enough so that their power is lent to him._

           The ancient Vampire nodded to himself. That made sense. If the two fighters who had appeared were servants of the Dark Lord, and had acted to save Voldemort on their masters orders, then there was still a chance the Serpent Lord could be defeated, for surely the Dark Lord knew that the only creatures of true dark were the Vampires and surely the Dark Lord was another Vampire, playing with mortals.

           That made sense. The smaller one, though, had obviously been given to Voldemort as a token of good faith, but the taller one was still connected to his master, and was a living channel for their power. He looked down at the empty spaces, his children gone, lost to the power of Dark.

           "I will not make the same mistake again."

           The Dark Lord Voldemort had to fall, for he was playing with power he did not understand and that should not be used by mortals. The one mortal, if it was a mortal, who did use it, seemed content to remain unknown and Xeoaph nodded. That's why they sent their servants.

           Aged blue eyes closed. _I will have to help the Light, for they are still too weak, but if the Dark Lord Voldemort is alive through my blood..._

           The Dark was supporting a Dark Mortal simply because it could. But the power was limited, he had felt that so if Voldemort lived, it was through some other power, a vampire's power.

           "I can destroy you Voldemort," Xeoaph hissed, grinning. "I cannot undo the power of my blood but all vampires are subjected to the same laws. _I_ cannot undo it, but my master can.

           "You will fall mortal, because the dark will not back you forever and I will be waiting."

===

           **V** oldemort stood alone on the parapet of his stronghold. Ruby eyes gazed out at the almost black rock strew field that was on this side. It was the only open approach to his stronghold. The other sides were sheer cliff faces with hundreds of metres rock falls leading down to the icy ocean. He could distantly hear the booming of the water but it could be mistaken for the hissing of the wind easily enough.

           Sword grass and clumps of the tough mondo grass grew in the field to about knee height before the constant cold wind curtailed any further growth. It waved now as it was whipped about by the wind.

           His robes snapped around him, the heavy crimson fabric billowing almost ponderously but he was not cold. He was a serpent but he was not so limited that he was incapacitated by temperature.

           The past few days had been a trial. The culmination of patient labour had been destroyed in a single night. It always seemed to happen that way. Perhaps he had overstepped his bounds, but he had not overstepped his ambition. The world would bow to him. It would just take a little longer to reach his goal.

           For now though he was assessing the battle and regrouping. That idiot Malfoy had scattered his forces driving some of them back into their bolt holes, and causing still others to be captured. The Rebellion that the blond had lead had been damaging, he could not deny that, and if he had thought that it was going to be as wide spread he would have crushed Malfoy weeks ago, taking the risk of the conspirators choosing a new leader and biding their time.

           Of his non:human allies he had but a handful left. The vampires had never supported him, the giants were too splintered, trolls and ogres weren't worth bothering with and goblins... He shuddered. He'd kill the goblins himself before he bothered with them. They were only good at fighting each other. Unless he could get a major group like the werewolves on side, his non:human forces would remain weak for quite some time. Lucius' forces had made a point of killing them outright.

           Although... The shadows could potentially fight.

           :No. Not unless our Master wills it,: the darkness whispered to him. :You will have to conquer by yourself.:

           The Dark Lord nodded. He had been expecting something like this from his beloved's servants and it was probably better this way. If he began using the shadows, then Harry could not without questions being raised.

           "Could I get a few limited services?"

           :Yes,: the agreed quietly, sensing his need.

           Voldemort nodded, before looking back to the grass.

           The serpents would fight for him but their abilities in battle was limited so with his non:human forces almost non:existent that left his Death Eaters as the main force. This was not unusual but with their reduced numbers he would have to be careful to ensure that he was using them in the most efficient manner.

           He sighed, some few of his Death Eaters were unsuited to combat but in supporting roles... Their abilities were almost legendary. He would need to start establishing bases and safe locations for his forces soon. That would also serve to establish him as a legitimate alternative and would allow further recruitment.

           Losing Lucius as an individual wouldn't have been a problem, but Malfoy's Rebellion seemed to have called upon his more public followers, those the Ministry suspected. While it did mean now that his forces were truly hidden, it would severely affect his ability to recruit. Lucius had been not been public with his support but for anyone with a brain his loyalty had been obvious and he and his ilk provided many recruitment opportunities.

           He would need to get some Marked students within Dumstrang, Hogwarts and Beauxbatons as soon as possible, despite the risk. There were potential followers there but they had no way of finding him. And he would need to, as he had done in the early days, put the word out with the practitioners and suppliers of the Dark Arts. He had been generous in the past, they would not deny him now.

           He looked up at the sky. A few tattered clouds raced passed, briefly obscuring some stars. It was moonless here, and the dark was almost absolute. Darkness that he could hide in... no.

           After the battle just past, he no longer had a choice. Years ago, during his first rise, he had used stealth, expanding his forces and influence by slowly convincing family after family, clan after clan. But that took time. And that took a Ministry that was not looking for a Dark Lord. It had only been because he had acted so fast after the defeat of Grindlewald that he had managed to remain undetected for so long, a mere terrifying rumour.

           But the Ministry knew him now, and was watching. He would be able to gain some followers as he had in the past, but his major gains would have to come through open combat. They were watching for him and his forces, so he would give them something to watch.

           Stealth was well and good, but it left him open to infiltration. Open battle was different like that, infiltrators had to fight their own and would be recorded as fighting on his side, so that they could never go back.

           He would have to harness his forces and resources but with the right planning open combat would be beneficial. He could stand against anyone that way, and his forces would gain strength and courage as they became used to what they could do.

           Wizard fighting wizard in battle was not the same as duelling. It came down to the strongest group and the best planner and he was no mean general.

           The only question remained with the Vampires.

           They would never support him. After Xeoaph had so openly backed Lucius even if another elder crawled to him, he would destroy it before he would ally with them. Unless it was Xeoaph's Master.

           Voldemort suppressed a smile at the childish imagining, seeing the elder vampire's horror as he ordered him and his forces to stand down, an order that was backed by Xeoaph's Vampiric Sire. As pleasing as it was, it would be impossible. Xeoaph was over two thousand years old. His sire was almost certainly dead... wasn't he?

           Blood red eyes narrowed slightly as the Dark Lord realised he did not know. He shrugged finally. It did not matter. He had already obtained the elder Vampire's blood and needed nothing further from him. Xeoaph could order his children to fight for the Ministry, but that was all he could do.

           :He can die.: The shadows suggested thoughtfully.

           "He can, but he probably won't," Voldemort agreed easily as he turned back to the interior, running a long fingered hand through his hair. He wasn't so stupid that he did not appreciate _how_ difficult it was to kill a vampire of that age. No... Let the Ministry attempt that, he would be content with neutralisation.

           His path was clear now, and he had to be ready by the time the Ministry and Dumbledore regrouped.

           Summon his forces, verify their loyalty, destroy the traitors, and then choose his first battle ground.

           But for now, he had to keep the Ministry off balance. They would no doubt be seeking revenge for their almost loss and he would need to distract them...

           Ah... A sinister smile crossed his features.

           That insipid paper had survived his attack but there were many uses for the media. Perhaps he would give that annoying reporter the story they had been dreaming of and then see how the Ministry played to that. It would be a good way measuring them, as well as providing an opportunity for those who were as yet undecided as to where they stood to see that he was real.

           Yes, he would do that tomorrow. In the meantime though, he had traitors to torture and the heads of two particular traitors to deliver to Hogwarts.

           In truth, he wasn't really sure what to do with Lucius. For the moment, those who had been captured were languishing in his dungeons, the magic having been stripped from them by the shadows, and no doubt the Dementors were feasting on their memories.

           They would die. He knew that. But to just kill them would not inspire fear, not would it serve his purpose although their sudden disappearance would raise questions. Perhaps it was for the best if they should just disappear, never to be heard from by either side again.

           :That is too easy for Lucius.:

           "So you agree for the others?"

           :With the right rumours, it would certainly help. Or let them be found slowly, one at a time so that the world wonders what has happened.:

           Voldemort nodded. "So what of Malfoy?"

           :For now, we suggest nothing. Let him wonder, let him torture himself with the knowledge of his failure.:

           "Let him live long enough to see my victory?"

           :Yes.:

           "You have something else in mind, don't you?" The Dark Lord accused.

           :Yes,: the shadows agreed without the slightest trace of concern. :You'll work it out in time. Just leave him for the moment since our Master is not quite ready for the torture we wish him to inflict.:

           "I will wait then," Voldemort agreed. "I will keep him, just as I am keeping those Muggles."

           He settled himself down in his throne, looking around the room. The shadows seemed deeper than they had been several days ago. The Dark Lord allowed himself a small smile, before he focused his power slightly, bringing Zabini and Bulstrode to him.

           The two black robed wizards landed on the cold stones with a slight thud before they blinked in the sudden light. They made no effort to move and the Dark Lord examined them with narrowed eyes, remembering what Harry had told him about feeding his servants.

           "So this is the result," he murmured, altering his eyes to see their magic. He jerked slightly in surprise when they appeared as nothing more than dark lumps to him. He could see them, they weren't completely devoid of magic or light, but they were like a Muggle to a Wizard : lifeless, weak.

           :They weren't even that tasty,: the shadows observed, earning a small smile.

           "Oh, so what is tasty?"

           :Heh...When you and our Master lay together, that was a feast such that we will do everything in our power to see repeated.:

           The Dark Lord blinked. Blood red eyes showed nothing before he laughed in absolute delight, surprise turning into expectation. "See that you do," he hissed before looking back at his captives. From the way that what was left of their magic was distributed he could see that it had been striped thoroughly. There was a small flicker remaining there though, around their solar plexus. That was keeping their bodies alive. It was all that was necessary although it was interesting to note, that now they were weaker than most Muggles.

           "Why did you not consume all their light?"

           The shadows hesitated and the Dark Lord waited. They did not have to answer him, he knew, only Harry had that power but they had been forthcoming so far. :Our Master does not know yet and we do not usually do that. If we consume every last bit of light within someone they can no longer serve our purpose as they are no longer separate. They become one of us but they are not one of us. It is like those who are born vampire and those who are turned. Those who are born vampire are powerful, from birth, those who are turned take centuries, eons to reach the same level of power. We have no wish to dilute ourselves and so do not re:create that way, except for a few, gifted individuals who match our power when turned.:

           Voldemort nodded. He understood. He didn't understand everything though. There were things there that they were not telling but he understood their reasoning. He was still curious though. "Would you consume Harry?"

           Once again they paused. :We already consume his radiant power.:

           "But you do not consume the whole."

           They seemed to sigh and the Dark Lord got the distinct impression that they were arguing amongst themselves. :We would consume Harry,: his answer came after a moment.

           One black eye brow arched at their choice of words. They never called his beloved anything but Master.

           :We would consume Harry,: they repeated, :But such Light would likely kill us.:

           "I did not think your kind could die."

           :We do not die,: they clarified. :Not of old age, not of anything. But we can be destroyed and his power is that which can do that. It is poison to us, and once infected it would spread throughout the whole and we would all die.: They sensed the further question. :We serve, Dark Lord, because _we_ are the Dark and some poisons are empowering when given in small doses.:

           "But you are an ultimate power already," Voldemort objected, wondering why they would submit. "You do not need the extra power."

           :We are addicted, we are dark but like you we know that there must be light.:

           The Dark Lord nodded, his prisoners forgotten by his thirst for knowledge about his new allies. They were intriguing and the complexity of their relationship to the light was breathtaking. There was so much more he _knew_ they were not saying, so much more he knew there were just no words for and he knew he would only ever begin to grasp the edges of understanding. "Does Harry know?"

           :Yes. He understands instinctually what lies between us. He understands everything, even if he does not yet _know_ it all.:

           "Ah," that was all he could bring himself to say.

           :You are concerned Dark Lord, there is no need. We will not betray and we will always answer his call. Between our master and us, there is more than a contract, there is more than instinct and power. There is need and there is requirement. What binds him to us, and us to him cannot be broken, and cannot be ignored by either of us. Throughout time it has always been that way and should our master become immortal, it will remain that way.:

           Voldemort nodded again, suppressing a slight shiver at the power they were radiating. It was the extremes of everything all at once : love, heat, rage, black, loyalty, whole, alone, unknown, light, dark, known, accompanied, broken, deceit, white, calm, cold, hate : unique and powerful and the sense was gone in an instant as the shadows withdrew.

           Zabini and Bulstrode shivered as well, their eyes wild as they sensed their tormentors but that terror was quickly forgotten as a more immediate threat materialised. They might have been sapped of all magic, completely without light and without hope, but they were still alive and on some level all living beings crave life, even when sacrificing itself for the greater good, there is always a part that still wishes to live. With all other parts traumatised or destroyed, that part was now in control.

           Voldemort smiled. It was not the gentle smile he gave his beloved but one of pure anticipation. Beings who were clinging to life were the most fun to break. They could be humiliated, driven, controlled. Every scream was just the indication of their delusion and his control. Harry would learn the pleasure of control in time and it would be a joy teaching it to him, but for now, he had his own entertainment to attend to.

 


	2. The Order of the Phoenix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text Key
> 
> :blah: Telepathic conversation  
> $blah$ Phoenix conversation  
> -blah- Parseltongue conversation

Weapon  
Chapter 2 The Order of the Phoenix

       Harry leaned back, grateful for the supporting warmth of his Godfather. He hadn't turned sixteen yet so this questioning from the Aurors was barely legal, even with his Guardians presence.

       But it was one of those things he had to do... He shook his head briefly. He couldn't think like that, he'd make a mistake sometime, if he did that. He had to immerse himself back into the person they thought he was, so that they would never know, not until it was too late. His beloved would understand, would wake him up in time.

       Brilliant emerald eyes opened and he looked around. It wasn't their fault. These Aurors were actually quite nice. They were nothing like those Fudge had kept, all convinced of the Minister's brilliance. No, these ones were realists. They were battle scarred and tough. They remembered what it had been like to fight in the past and they wanted, desperately, to avoid that again. But they would not just surrender. Around them was a hint of panic. None of them knew how lax things had become, but they were all prepared to change that.

       They were nice. They believed him. They knew what he was telling them was the truth and he could feel their respect. They regarded him, not perhaps as a warrior, but as one who understood what the true battle would be like. Even so, they were not taking it easy on him. They had to know, and they had to know now and they were fierce in their intensity. He did not have the luxury of time.

       He hoped though, that when everything was decided that some of them would have the sense to bow to the inevitable. He didn't really want to destroy them all.

       :Seduce them.:

       :Huh?:

       :They are loyal, they will be destroyed.:

       :So how does seducing them help?:

       :Make them loyal to you, Master, then there is no betrayal and they will follow where you choose to lead.:

       Harry blinked carefully and then nodded, seemingly in response to one of the questions. It was a good idea, and it was perhaps the only way he would get an accurate picture of events. Dumbledore, even now, seemed reluctant to tell him everything.

       :Dumbledore is waiting until you are inducted into the Order of the Phoenix.:

       :The Order of the Phoenix?: Harry asked. He had heard of the Order, but he had no real idea of what it did.

       :You will be a weapon in this battle, but you will be one provided by the Order to the rest of the wizarding world.:

       :Thus keeping the Order powerful.:

       :Yes.:

       :How do I seduce them?: Harry asked quickly, now more than convinced that he needed the outside source of information. The fact that they would become his followers could be dealt with later.

       :Let us handle that, Master.:

       :Is there anyone else I should see?:

       The shadows measured the question for a long moment. They had not thought that their Master was ready for such considerations just yet but it was an indication of how much he had grown. :The Vampires will need to be forced into submission, the giants are too few to bother with and goblins... we share the Dark Lord's sentiments there : they are only good at fighting themselves. Manticores and chimera act as individuals but will recognise your power, serpents belong to your beloved. Dark Elves are destroyed at birth and those few that survive live such a mean existence that death is a mercy. Dementors are already yours and...: They paused.

       :And?: Harry prompted.

       :What do you feel about werewolves?:

       :I don't have a problem with them.:

       :They don't... they don't have an organisational structure. The wizards keep destroying any semblance of organisation so now their structure is very fluid and informal. It works though. We can approach them, if you would like?:

       :Won't Voldemort want them?:

       :Yes.:

       :Don't they already serve him?:

       :Not with Lucius' Rebellion.:

       :So why should I steal them?:

       :He will be okay without them, and we would like it better if they are loyal to you personally.:

       :But...:

       :Master, will you always be subservient to him?: There was a hint of challenge in their tone.

       :No,: Harry snapped back. :Approach the weres but let it be known that I am asking for their loyalty personally.:

       :They will know.:

       A flicker of memory hit Harry and he frowned slightly. :So what of Dragons?:

       The shadows were silent. :We have no power there. They belong to neither Light nor Dark.:

       :Can they be controlled?:

       :They are controlled by the Fire Dragon.:

       :So seduce the Fire Dragon.:

       The shadows laughed but there was no mockery in their tone. In fact they seemed happy at his quasi order and the implications that he was ready to assume control of others. :We can't. They would not be attracted by any of our advances.:

       :So the dragons will fall to the Light?:

       :That is not determined. They might, they might not. We can not approach them though so if you want them, Master, _you_ will have to seduce the Fire Dragon.:

       :But I don't even know who it is!:

       :We _know_ , and we will not tell you Master. Just act on your feelings, both sets of feelings, and you will find yourself with a seduced Fire Dragon.:

       :Both sets of feelings?:

       :You have embraced the Dark, Master, by accepting us and the Dark Lord but to fulfil your task you are going to have to become that which you were, that which you perhaps should have been. Embrace those feelings as well, for they are you, and they are not a betrayal of your Lover.:

       :I don't understand.:

       :You will, Master, you will.:

       Harry brought his attention back to the Aurors as they asked him where the Dark Lord's base was, signalling that they were beginning on the harder questions.

       "I don't know," he answered honestly. He really didn't know. He'd apparated there but that had been instinctive. He truly did not know where Voldemort's base was although he did know what they were planning. If they could track down the Dark Lord, the Aurors would rally and attack now, in one strike to decide it all. They might lose half the force sent against the Dark Lord, but right not they knew they could win and such a sacrifice would be acceptable.

       "I was unconscious," he added, perpetuating the story Dumbledore had spread.

       "So you apparated by instinct?" One of the Aurors scoffed.

       "Instinct," Harry confirmed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "And a shit load of fear," he added. It earnt a snigger from some of the more astute Aurors, most of whom had glared at their companion. "You can't imagine his eyes," he continued with a shiver of delight that was mistaken for a shudder of fear.

       Oh no, they couldn't imagine his eyes. Burning rubies, bloody crimson serpentine eyes that they believed to be cold and dead but he knew otherwise. He'd seen the sultry emotion, the soft love and had watched them cloud with lust, the emotions so overwhelming that they seemed to leak out in raw motes of power. He'd seen, he knew, he _loved_.

       _No... I can't think like that. Not now, not here,_ he reminded himself.

       "Look, if I knew, do you think I'd be holding back? For me, the only way I can get peace is when he's gone, otherwise this will go on and on. Unfortunately though, to apparate, the way I did anyway, all you need to know is where you want to go. And I wanted to return to Hogwarts, very badly. And before you ask, Sirius has told me what happened with him dying and while I don't doubt you Captain Sturges, Voldemort was very much alive when I saw him. But I _did not_ see any of his allies. I saw him, and only him, if you don't count the serpents."

       "We understand, Harry," Captain Sturges smiled before his expression became grim. "It's as we feared though. He has allies, more than we thought he had, perhaps allies who are or have knowledge of the ancient power."

       "But how could they possibly..."

       "How, why, where..? I don't think they are questions we need the answers for," Sturges forestalled the barrage of disbelieving questions, using his authority as a field commander of many years standing. "What we need to be concerned with is how we are going to stop them, or at the least neutralise them, if we can't arrange something more permanent."

       The others nodded in agreement before Captain Sturges nodded towards Harry, rising. "Thank you for your help, Mr Potter. If you remember anything else, no matter how small, please tell us. Aurors will be stationed around Hogwarts for what remains of semester and throughout the summer. Mr Black, a reapplication will not be looked upon disfavorably," Sturges agreed as he motioned the others out.

       Sirius smiled briefly returning the mans regard as the Aurors filed out, already murmuring amongst themselves both the need to recruit and the need to speak with the Department of Mysteries and their Unspeakables. There was the hope, unspoken at the moment for it was too fragile to risk, that they would know how to deal with the Dark Lord’s new allies.

       Once the Aurors filled out, Harry turned to Sirius, his emerald eyes shimmering. He knew the shadows had already told his Godfather everything.

       "Harry?" He questioned, concerned at the sudden change in demeanour.

       "How do I do it?" Harry asked, clinging to him for support, relaxing slightly at the warm comfort he could feel.

       "Carefully," Sirius answered. " _Very_ carefully.... There is a trick though. I'll teach you."

       "A trick?"

       "A trick. In Azkaban, not everyone and not everything is as it seems. You couldn't afford to be human because the Dementors would have your memories striped within a month. You had to become something else, you had to develop a shield. It's a trick. I'll show it to you. You can hide your true self and let them see only that which they want to see, that which they need to see."

       "You're using it now?"

       "Not now, I was though," Sirius smiled at Harry, stroking his back as he shifted his mind about. "Look at me," he instructed softly as a few shadows flickered around them.

       Harry looked up, his eyes focusing on his Godfather and he blinked. He could almost see two Sirius', like an echo. There was the usual man, his magic bright and strong, but disjointed to him, almost completely contained within the other was another Sirius. This one wasn't as bright but the power was different. This was the true Sirius, the controlling Sirius, but it was protected completely by the other, and to anyone who didn't know what they were looking at, this inner Sirius would simply be considered the soul imprint, something only manifested by powerful wizards : an imprint of their power within their power and it was speculated that this imprint was what allowed truly powerful witches and wizards to cast multiple charms simultaneously. The best most wizards could do was charms in rapid succession. Those with a soul imprint could cast several charms at once.

       "It's brilliant."

       "It's a trick. You hide that bit of yourself that needs protection or that can't be seen within the rest of yourself. It's still there, it still controls but is hidden and where it's not in its best interests, it is overridden by the protecting half."

       Harry nodded, and the shadows helped him with the initial shifts within his mind. Once it was over he felt blanketed, as if he was looking out at the world through layers of himself.

       Sirius looked at him, assessing the shield. "It's not fool proof," he warned gently. "But it will help. However it will not help with the guilt. _He_ understands and if he does not blame you, you should not feel guilty."

       "I can't help it."

       "Harry, it's not betrayal! Rather it is the most efficient pursuit of your combined goals. Although..."

       "Although?"

       "Are you sure about the perpetuation of Dumbledore's lie?"

       Harry nodded, grinning tightly. "Only Draco and his cronies know what really happened here and when I go to breakfast tomorrow, do you think they are going to refute a lie that protects them? Besides, it's not like they've got any evidence of their actions."

       Sirius laughed. When you looked at it like that, Draco's position became comical, for to convince anyone that Harry, or rather Xaos was responsible for the Slytherin Student's deaths, he would have to reveal that he was responsible for attacking Harry, and then his links with the Dark Lord's, or his Father's forces would be revealed. Draco had done what had been asked of him, but his efforts had been thwarted by a higher power. "Check and mate."

       "Just check," Harry disagreed. "I want him to squirm before the check:mate."

       Sirius laughed. "Is Xaos safe?" He asked as the little basilisk was the only one he was unsure of the shadows’ ability to control.

       "Xaos is more than safe." He grinned as his eyes flashed red for an instant and he felt a tickle against his skin as the living tattoo shifted, becoming faintly visible for a moment.

       "Ah," Harry could hear the smile in his Godfather's voice. "I see. Have you cast a patronus lately?"

       "No, should I?"

       "No, I was just wondering if there were any effects. Transmutational magic is of particular interest. I'm not saying anything has or should have happened, I'm just interested in if anything has."

       "Not that I know of, although depending on the Initiation into the Order of the Phoenix, that might change."

       Sirius shook his head. "It won't, although be prepared, it does delve into you."

       :We will help.:

       Harry sighed. "I will be ready," he said firmly, already strengthening his mental shields.

       He wasn't about to let this opportunity pass him by.

       He would be ready.

===

       : **S** hut up!: Harry snapped, glaring at a patch of shadow.

       :We haven't said anything!: His servants objected mildly, not bothering to hide the mirth in their tone.

       :You don't need to, I heard you giggling.:

       :We would never..!:

       :You would! So shut up!: Harry growled, emerald eyes blazing as he paced back and forth in the small room. Privately he could understand their laughter and he would be more than happy when he could rid himself of the garments Dumbledore had insisted were necessary for initiation into the Order of the Phoenix.

       White velvet wrapped around him, the heavy folds whispering as the fabric rubbed together with his motion. Beneath the heavy outer robe, silk slid against his skin in a loose shirt and pants that had been tucked into soft deer hide boots. The emblem of a phoenix had been embroidered with unicorn hair over his heart on all the garments and gold thread traced out the pattern of fire burning upwards from the hems at his feet and wrists.

       They were beautiful. Harry could not deny that. The workmanship on the garments was exquisite even if it had been done with magic but it made him feel... wrong... It was too pure and with everything that had happened he didn't feel pure.

       For the moment he was alone. After dressing, one of the Order Members had lead him to this plain room with no windows. Illumination was provided by four candles set at the meridian points and he was meant to be mediating, cleansing himself of the dark.

       :As if that would be possible...: the shadows laughed. :You cannot cleanse yourself of something you do not possess.:

       :Hmm? Everyone is light and dark,: Harry questioned their statement.

       :Even you,: they agreed easily. :But you still cannot cleanse yourself of something you do not possess. You do not possess us, Master, we possess you. The darkness is us, the light is you.:

       Emerald eyes blinked before Harry nodded, understanding what they were saying. He did possess darkness, no matter what they said, but they had chosen to remove it from him.

       :Yes...: the shadows agreed with him, sensing his conclusions. :You are the pure one,: they added, :for only purity can truly sustain us.:

       Harry cast a glance towards the door as the flickering shadows in the room darkened and he felt his servants syphon some of his energy. The link between them was always open, he knew that, be he could close it if he desired. He could limit their consumption to the point where only the barest fraction of his radiant energy would be available to them but he could see no point in that... for the moment. He couldn't use his radiant energy, so why not give it to someone who could, especially when those someone's were as helpful as the shadows.

       :You'll make us blush!: They teased.

       :So what happens now?:

       :With the initiation?:

       Harry nodded.

       :A lot of mumbo:jumbo. Dumbledore gets to feel important. Fawkes gives you his blessing and a mind link to the other Members. We make a ceremonial appearance and then we imagine Fawkes and Xaos will fight it out.:

       "What?" He blurted. He got most of the explanation but the last bit threw him.

       :Members of the Order are marked with a piece of Fawkes in much the same way that Xaos marks you now and we don't think the two of them will get along.:

       Harry felt his heart go cold. How was he going to explain Xaos without everything coming undone?

       -Master, do not be concerned,- the basilisk whispered to him, and Harry felt the serpent's consciousness awaken within his own.

       -I will not lose you!- He berated the snake.

       -I have your backing?-

       -Yes, but in front of the Order, I cannot show my true loyalty.-

       -That is not necessary,- Xaos reassured him with the equivalent of a serpentine laugh. -So long as I have your backing, I cannot be destroyed, although Master, I must ask your forgiveness in advance, for in fighting the phoenix it may be necessary for me to...-

       :Lie,: the shadows finished the sentence when they felt Xaos' discomfort.

       Harry chuckled. He had forgotten how young his basilisk was. -I know you will only protect me, Xaos,- he said comfortingly.

       -Thank you, Master. I will try to remain hidden but if the phoenix finds me, I will try to bring all guilt to me.-

       -You will be safe though, won't you?- Harry pressed the point.

       -Yes. I will be weakened, but I cannot be destroyed not while some part of you backs me.-

       :We will not let him be destroyed,: the shadows added their reassurance.

       "All right," Harry agreed reluctantly. He couldn't back out of the ceremony now and even if he decided to feign a collapse due to exhaustion, something that was possible in his current state, that would only postpone his initiation. Dumbledore, on his brief visit to him in the infirmary, had made that clear, in his annoyingly cheerful manner, which would have worked on him if he had of been the child the ancient wizard still thought he was.

       That was one delusion he was going to take a great deal of pleasure in dispelling when the time was right.

       He started slightly as the room lightened, and quickly schooled his face into an imitation of peace, turning towards the door as it opened, artfully blinking at the Order Member as if the opening of the door had disturbed his cleansing trance.

       :Not a word, not a snigger, not a whisper!: He sent the warning to his servants forcefully, somehow knowing that they were choking back laughter at his 'transformation'.

       :Not a word,: they agreed, their presence faint, :but just wait until we tell the Lord Voldemort!:

       :You won't dare!:

       The Order Member blinked at the sudden sense of menace but the sensation was gone as quickly as it appeared as Harry brought himself back under control, settling for mentally glaring at the shadows. "This way, Harry," the young lady said kindly to the boy. Her robes he noted, were black, but the emblem of the Phoenix and the flame patterning remained the same, all the more startling against the darkness.

       "Thank you," Harry replied, reaching up and drawing his hood as he had been instructed before he stepped through the door into the dark corridor. Xaos brushed against his mind again, before retreating, burrowing deep within and pulling barriers around his presence in an attempt to hide.

       The woman lead him down darkened corridors, her ash wood wand providing the only light, before she stopped before a small door. With a gesture, she indicated that he should enter the pitch black room. "This is the antechamber in which the initiate waits until summoned. You will know when we need you," she said by way of explanation, closing the door behind him securely.

       Harry resisted the urge to snort. The mysticism might have impressed him in the past, but he was over that and he wasn't afraid of the dark. The Order had a long way to go if they thought they could save him from his own fears. With a glance around at the dark which was not dark : not when you had true darkness lighting your way : he took up a position of mediation, copying his basilisk in rearranging his mind as Sirius had shown him. There were things that could not be close to the surface.

       He was careful to show no reaction when he felt the tingle of magic as the room became an oubliette. Did they think to scare him? Did they truly think he would believe they would do this..? No, they needed him too much. He pushed the thought down, trying to summon the stunned child who could not conceive a Dark Lord's love. That was the person they were expecting.

       Emerald eyes opened and glazed slightly as he felt the persona wrap around him. It was stifling, the freedom that was now denied and he felt, almost with two minds, the shadows move to try to calm his now inner self. Only reluctantly did he calm, settling to watch the world through his false self with narrowed eyes and slowly Harry felt the cold chill of fear rise within him.

       The Order was waiting. As he felt a cold sweat break out on him a tiny flame appeared before him. He locked his eyes on it, feeling himself drawn into its warmth, into the light and as he focused on it, his heart beat slowed and the fear that had been rising ebbed.

       But then a new fear grew within him, as he looked around. He was alone. He was always alone. He could see the cold stone walls now, their darkness was gone, he was not afraid of them, but they were lonely and he had been alone for so long. He didn't want to be alone again.

       Thick tears gathered in his eyes and deep within him, his true presence smiled. This was the person they believed him to be so this was the person he would be. Someone they could control, someone they could mould.

       Just before the tears spilt the oubliette wavered, the featureless stone walls melted away to reveal an amphitheatre rising above him. It was lit with soft warm yellows and was full of black robed witches and wizards : the members of the Order. Most had their hoods raised but a few smiled comfortingly at him as he gulped back the tears.

       Inwardly he hid a grin. They had wanted those reactions to trigger the shifts in his perceptions so they had gotten those reactions but from now on, he would not be weak.

       Harry looked over to the far side of the stage. Dumbledore, looking every inch the powerful wizard that he was, was waiting for him, the contrast between the black flame robes and his white hair and beard adding to his aura of power. His blue eyes were twinkling, and his face was creased with a soft smile of welcome. Once the ceremony was over, the Order would have their weapon and the battle against the darkness could truly begin. Although he was no fool, even with Harry's cooperation, they would need to tread carefully. There was no such thing as a battle won before it was joined, all this meant was that their chances were greatly improved and that they now had the tools necessary to win.

       And not just a temporary victory as the sacrifice of James and Lily had given them. With Harry's co:operation this would be a definitive victory against the Dark Lord.

       Fawkes was perched beside him on a large, pulsing white crystal. The phoenix appeared asleep but he was merely preparing himself for the task ahead. Even if nothing unusual had happened to Harry during his life this would be a difficult induction, simply because of his amount of power. Add to it his youth and strong will, and that guaranteed that the joining of his mind with the Order would cause problems.

       Maybe not to Harry but those of lesser resolve would soon learn that they could no longer be indecisive.

       As Harry stepped forward, Albus resisted the urge to narrow his eyes as he assessed the young man before him. In a few short days, the boy had grown. Physically he looked the same, if not a little thinner for his ordeal but around him now there was a feeling. It was the aura of a wizard much older, a feeling that came with time and experience, but the ancient wizard had to admit that Harry had been through far more than most experienced in a lifetime but even so, for him to radiant such confidence... It bore watching but Fawkes would soon discover the truth.

       The Light would not be betrayed by its own weapon.

       Fawkes slowly opened luminous eyes, watching with an unblinking gaze as the young man stood before him. It was traditional to kneel but the bird, like the ancient wizard beside him, knew the emerald eyed boy would die before he knelt to any man. And for one who was potentially the next Leader of the Order, the open suspension of tradition would merely act to confirm his claim.

       But the bird could see more than the man, and he knew the reactions to the induced fear of dark and loneliness had been feigned. That merely showed though an impressive natural defence against magical influences and that Harry had the level of power required to defeat the dark. He would not be like the other, crippled by his own fear of the power that was his birthright.

       Fawkes trilled from deep within his chest the song of courage, of welcome, of acceptance and was pleased to see the veiled looks of mistrust vanish as his song forced the Order members to reassess the boy and see the brilliant purity of light that shone from him, undulled by the darkness that had tried throughout his life to sully it.

       He rose up, raising his crest and flaring his wings in a traditional display. The crystal beneath his pinions pulsed, the pure white light becoming flamed tinged, illuminating him to give the illusion of a true phoenix, rising fully grown, magnificently plumed from the fires of his own death. His song continued, and as Fawkes reached his full height, feathers ablaze, eyes burning with their own fire, it reached a crescendo. He paused, allowing himself to be beheld for an instant in full perfection before his snapped his wings back around his body, and lowered his crest slightly, settling back down upon his perch as the light returned to its steady white glow.

       Harry continued to gaze at him with flat eyes unimpressed by either the display of power or his song.

       The complete lack of reaction brought a stir from the Order members but Dumbledore acted quickly, moving to start the ceremony before anything more than the occasional whispered word became audible from the hissed conversations. The talk vanished but some of the dubious looks returned. With a characteristic note of nonchalance he shrugged. It was not their decision who was and was not inducted into the Order. Order members could nominate anyone for induction but the final decision came down to the Phoenix and in some measure the crystal he was perched on. So long as Fawkes determined that an individual was worthy then nothing else could gainsay that decision. Albus was wise enough to know that if the human members of the Order were the only determiners of entry, it would not have survived.

       "Harry James Potter," he intoned in his rich voice, completely silencing the last few whispers of conversation. "Son of the Order Members Lily Evans and James Potter, you stand before the Order because you wish to add your power to the same noble cause they followed."

       Inner Harry scowled and murmured 'You wish me to' but outwardly he nodded gravely, his drawn hood keeping his face mostly in shadow, giving him a stately grace as he replied. "I do."

       "Then let us see you fully, so that your worth might be known."

===

       **T** hin, pale hands reached up and Harry slowly pushed back his hood, brushing unruly hair from his eyes in the same movement. He was careful not to look around, knowing that already the unknowns in the room would be looking at him with either awe or cold calculation. For the light, that calculation was better hidden, but now that he knew what to look for, it was blatant.

       $Relax, child. Their judgement is of no consequence.$

       Since he had been warned, he wasn't surprised at the soft voice that entered his thoughts and he recognised the gleam in Fawkes' eyes, identifying him as the speaker.

       $You are wise beyond your years,$ the phoenix continued.

       $I have been known beyond my years,$ Harry responded with a small nod towards the bird.

       $Your pain is my pain,$ Fawkes said softly. $Your pain is the Order's Pain.$

       $Know pain and know power?$ Harry interrupted the ritualistic lines, not liking at least some of their implications. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he dared the bird or Dumbledore to answer. _If they had_ known _..._ He did not care how long it would take, he would return to the one who knew him and none of these would survive. Emerald fire threatened to engulf him.

       $We did not know, Harry,$ Dumbledore's voice came to him in an effort to calm him. $We did not know until the day Voldemort took you.$

       Harry forced himself to calm, letting Fawkes smooth voice travel through him in comforting waves as he looked back towards the fire bird, shutting out the ancient wizard. What happened now was meant to be between him and Fawkes only, he knew that instinctually. $I know pain, and I know power.$

       $But do you know love?$

       He smiled, closing his eyes, and the Order members were surprised. Direct mental interaction with Fawkes was different for each of them. The questions asked were never the same for any two people but seldom did they cause the inductee to smile and Harry was smiling. A soft genuine smile that seemed to make him light from within. A secret smile that had only been seen by a few and was reserved for those alone he loved.

       $I know rage,$ Harry replied. $I know hate. I know pain. I know lust. And I know love,$ he confirmed, as he opened his eyes to once again gaze into Fawkes' fiery orbs.

       If Fawkes was surprised at the depths of feeling Harry was projecting to him he did not show it. Instead he nodded before fixing fire red eyes on liquid green and commanding. $If you know all then open your mind and know me.$

       Harry paused, :Are you ready?: He asked silently and received the mental impression of a nod from Xaos. The basilisk was lurking deep within his mind, woven about with shadows.

       $Come into my mind, and know me,$ Harry finally invited after taking a deep breath to cover his pause. He lowered some of his defences but he wasn't going to let the phoenix know he had full conscious control over them all. Let the bird fight his way through.

       Most in the audience were pragmatic enough to breathe a sigh of relief when they saw Fawkes initiate the full mind merge when illusionary flame appeared around Harry. Now, any spell, any controls the Dark Lord might have left in place on Harry, any influence he might have could be striped away, leaving the boy theirs to mould. Soft gazes filled with sympathy pervaded the room. It was not Harry's fault. Against such evil, he had shown remarkable courage and resourcefulness but he was still a fledgling and could not protect himself against the full range of evil the Lord Voldemort had at his disposal. Only a Phoenix could do that.

       Harry felt his eyes become heavy as a warm presence filled him. He was slightly surprised at how easily Fawkes had entered his mind until he felt the slight tingle of reassurance. Magic held him upright even though he wanted to lie down and sleep. The phoenixes presence was relaxing and he savoured what he knew was going to become a rare sensation until he felt Xaos stir within him.

       The illusionary fire vanished as the shadow basilisk struck and the watching Order members started as Harry arched back, emerald eyes opened wide as he screamed silently in pain. Around his body, coiled tight and wreathed with shadows, Xaos appeared, crest raised, fangs barred, ruby eyes burning with power.

       :He belongs to me.: The words boomed through the minds of all present as the basilisk locked gazes with Fawkes.

       The phoenix screamed but did not burst into his death flames. Dumbledore hastily averted his vision but looked back as he realised the serpent was only a projection. A solid magical protection but nothing more.

       :Don't be too sure old man.:

       "You are nothing but an illusion. Be gone!" Albus commanded with a sharp flick of his wand.

       :Oh no,: Xaos' hissed, still projecting his thoughts. :I don't think so. This one,: he added, wrapping his shadowy coils tighter around Harry, :belongs to the King.:

       :He belongs to the Order and to himself,: Fawkes returned.

       :His life perhaps, but his death belongs to the King and I am here to ensure that will be the case.:

       :But you will die as well.:

       :A small sacrifice for the glory of the King.:

       "So he commands his servants to die?"

       :No more than you do. My death will have purpose though, for I will be accompanied by his greatest enemy.:

       "Why has he not yet killed Harry? If he implanted you, he could have killed him."

       :Old man, your understanding is deficient. Simple death is far too easy. The boy has suffered true, but the boy has not yet suffered for my Master. One by one shall his friends be taken and broken. Slowly shall he lose all hope, slowly shall my Master take all that he holds dear, until pain is all he knows and death seems like a reward. And then my Master shall withhold that gift, until this child is completely broken, until he screams, until he cries, until he begs, until he calls my Master 'Master'. Only then will my Master consider ending it. I am here to ensure that he survives that long, a gift as it were, protection against himself and others who might grant him mercy.:

       :No, I will not allow that,: Fawkes answered.

       Xaos looked amused. :And what makes you think he's going to give you a choice?:

       :I cannot stop Riddle's actions but I can stop you,: Fawkes returned.

       The basilisk looked back flatly. :Try it, bird,: he invited the conflict, allowing his presence to fade slightly so that it looked like he was entwined not just around Harry, but through him as well. :I am in his mind : that little whisper of advice, guaranteeing survival. I am in his body : my poison and my eyes can be his if life is the goal, and I am in his soul : for only one who is a serpent my speak my tongue.:

       :I will drive you from his mind, and I will take you from his body, and his soul has not been touched by you, you feel your Master though him and I will close that link forever, so that the Dark Lord may not gain life from him.:

       Fawkes said nothing more before he struck, his talons reaching out to strike the basilisk. Harry screamed silently again and his body jerked but was held in place by the coils surrounding him. Xaos retaliated, his tail coming around to attempt to swat the phoenix and his jaws snapping at the fire bird. A few feathers was all he caught.

       Xaos was careful to keep his eyes protected but as the motion of strike and counter strike continued it became obvious, by the small cuts accumulating on him that Fawkes had more experience. The phoenix was old, and had fought many basilisk. He knew when and where to strike.

       :You cannot win against me,: the bird said eventually, rising to hover out of Xaos' range. :You are alone, you have no support and your host is against you. Leave him, and let it end quickly.:

       Xaos said nothing as he drew himself up, blinking his eyes to clear the thin trickle of blood from them. Fawkes' talons had pierced his skin around them and the blood stung as it mixed with liquid of his eyes. He tightened his coils around Harry, the dry rasp of scale against scale loud in the silence. The rest of the Order watched on silently as the ancient enmity played out. Finally, the basilisk narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the phoenix, his movements regally slow. :I have my orders,: he hissed. :And unlike the phoenix, the basilisk do not betray their Lord!:

       He surged, mouth open at the phoenix and Harry couldn't hold back a cry. Fawkes screamed his war song, his pinions glowing at there was a deafening noise as the two met in a tangled spiral of feathers and scales. They traded blows, Xaos' hissing as the glowing pinions broke his skin but the gentle rain of feathers indicated that the damage was not all one sided. Harry felt his true self wince with every injury Xaos had and he could feel his anger growing. He wasn't sure how long he could stand this.

       :Master, it's okay,: his serpent reassured him silently. :I will end this now though.:

       "Arhhh!"

       There was a scream of triumph and Fawkes struck quickly, swooping in to drive Xaos down as the basilisk tried to cover himself.

       :Master!: Xaos screamed in as loud a mental voice as he could manage, his tone anguished.

       :He cannot help you here,: Dumbledore responded coldly.

       Finally there was a thud as the serpent fell to the ground, still partially coiled around and through Harry, but to the Order he was defeated. Blood dripped to pool around his head before it vanished. The basilisk was only a magical construct, left to protect Harry and once his energy was gone, he could not maintain his existence.

       :I will not...: Xaos breathed deeply, around the blood pooling in his throat. :betray... my master.:

       Fawkes said nothing as he swooped in for the final blow, his enhanced pinions biting deeply into the softer tissue under Xaos' crest. The serpent whimpered but then faded further.

       Dumbledore smiled before he reached forward to catch Harry as he fell. "Now!" He commanded Fawkes, and before the serpent had faded entirely, the phoenix shone, fire seeming to outline him completely.

       As if in benediction he touched his wing tips to Harry's temples, his fiery red eyes catching liquid emeralds.

       $Harry, I welcome you into the Order and bid you to serve as your parents did: loyally, strongly and with all their hearts. The Order has one rule, little one, do what is right and follow your heart because if one cannot be true to oneself, one cannot be true to the Light.$

       Harry nodded. And Fawkes drew back, still blazing. He landed back on the crystal and as Harry wondered when he had moved towards it he understood what the phoenix needed him to do now. He reached out slowly, laying both hands on the burning crystal. The fire that surrounded Fawkes now surrounded Harry, and the Order watched as the flames slowly seeped inwards, dying the white robes of initiation black with the ash as the fire motif danced.

       :NO!: The denial came from the almost gone basilisk. Being a magical construct, injured and damaged by Fawkes' attacks, the basilisk had lain, dying, fading from existence while the ceremony proceeded, but now it surged back towards its charge. Ruby eyes glowed and the remaining magic gathered there, making them solid once again. :I will not fail!: Xaos hissed determinedly as he slammed into Harry, disappearing entirely.

       Harry screamed, and those that were close enough could see the now visible conflicting streams of magic vying for dominance. Fawkes' essence was a blazing light, tangling with the shadowed darkness of the basilisk.

       Unconsciously several Order members shifted their grip on their wands, ready to strike down their young initiate should the darkness triumph. They didn't want to and they would remember Harry as a young man who was taken from them too young, but they would not, could not allow the Order to be tainted. This wasn't part of the ceremony but this initiation had been permanently corrupted by the taint of the Dark Lord. A taint that could only be removed if Fawkes arose triumphant from this final match, and that could only happen if Harry fully embraced the light within himself. And that was a step that he could, regretfully, be too young to achieve completely. But they were the purifiers, they could not accept anything else. The Order could not.

       One by one they relaxed, looking at the newest Order member with newfound respect, as the fire light that was Fawkes' energy won out over the shadowy darkness of the basilisk.

       There was one last desperate scream from the serpent before the energy disappeared. :No... I will not fail.: A flicker of a tail seemed to appear to strike Harry but Fawkes intercepted it, dissipating the energy harmlessly.

       Harry fell to his knees, gasping as his personal energy was pulled in waves first one way then the next. It was disconcerting and he cried out when he felt Xaos vanish but then a burning seared his chest, and before he could stop himself he was clawing at his cloths, trying to stop the pain.

       His robes parted and the Order saw the image of the phoenix, the proof that Harry had in some way, like the rest of them, bonded with Fawkes. But unlike the rest of them, the phoenix tattoo that was emblazoned on Harry's skin was not in the colours of the fire bird. Harry's was inky : black, charcoal, grey, the different tones worked together, defining every feather, talon and claw beautifully. But it was wrong.

       Fawkes sung softly as wands were once more raised, and Dumbledore stepped forward, placing his withered hand on Harry's shoulder. He stroked one finger over the living tattoo as it faded completely before he looked around, Fawkes coming to settle on his shoulder.

       "Harry has been touched by Darkness but he has not succumb to it but the coloration is a reminder to us all that we must be vigilant. Now and forever though, Fawkes has accepted him and so he is a full member of the Order. Like the rest of us, Harry will fight against the Darkness." Dumbledore nodded towards the rest of the Order as several of them stood to leave.

       The Initiation was done, and as dramatic as it had been, there was no need to stay. If Fawkes vouched for Harry, then the darkness that was the basilisk that the Dark Lord had left guarding his rival had been defeated and there was no need for them to wait. A few others lingered but there was nothing to see.

       Sirius came forward with Remus and gently took Harry from Dumbledore. The boy had a soft smile on his face but seemed fine for the ordeal of his initiation.

       "Sirius, I would like to see Harry tomorrow, after classes. There are things that need to be discussed."

       He nodded. "I know, I told him as much. I think you can expect some questions."

       Dumbledore smiled, "I would be disappointed with anything less. Please take him to Madam Pomfrey. Fawkes has removed the basilisk but I'd like to be sure that Tom hasn't left anything else."

       "We'll see to it," Remus responded as he escorted Sirius and his precious bundle out of the room.

       Dumbledore let out a sigh as he looked around. The room was empty now. He reached up and stroked Fawkes. The phoenix seemed to sigh before he nibbled gently on the finger tips. "That was interesting," the old wizard said conversationally.

       $More interesting than you know,$ Fawkes agreed.

       "Oh, was there something other than the basilisk?"

       $Not from the Dark Lord, although I cannot fully close the link between them but what interests me is Harry himself.$

       "Is Harry blocking the link?"

       $As much as he can. I can help now, although that probably won't be necessary since the link isn't that extensive.$

       "Good, so what is it with Harry himself?"

       $I asked him the usual. He knows rage, pain, hate and lust. He knows the darkness and he knows light. He does not know fear, not in the way most people do. You do know that he simulated the necessary reactions.$

       "I noticed, yes. His power doesn't easily allow him to fall prey to magical illusions."

       $That's not a bad thing. What surprised me is that he knows love.$

       "Love?"

       $Love, and not just that of a parent to a child, or that of a boyfriend to a girl friend. He knows the love one feels towards a life partner.$

       "Who?" Dumbledore was surprised. He had expected Harry to know love, but more the immature love of one his age but Fawkes was indicating something completely different, something that could change everything.

       $I could not find out. He is hiding that information. I'm guessing he was hiding it from the basilisk as well, that on some level, Harry knew the serpent was there but couldn't do anything about it but the information didn't come to light. He's still hiding it.$

       Dumbledore nodded. That would make sense although now that Harry was safe he expected they would know soon enough. "If it's one of the other students, will it be a problem?"

       $No,$ Fawkes said easily. $For Harry to be able to love so deeply and so young, they will be true to him as well, although we will have to see to their protection. I _will not_ have another betray me.$

       Albus closed his eyes briefly before he turned and walked from the room. This was an unexpected twist, but it was nothing they couldn't handle, not now that Harry was under their control.

       "Tom... The Light does not bow to the Dark. You will know that soon."

 

 


	3. End of the Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text Key  
> -blah- Parseltongue  
> :blah: Silent speech with Shadows

Weapon  
Chapter 3 End of the Year

===

       Ginny opened her eyes before she sighed. She was in the medical wing of Hogwarts although this should be her last night here.

       Unlike the others she _knew_ Harry was back. The bond, one sided though it might be was effective enough for that. She also knew that her memories were false but if that was what Harry wanted then she would act as if they were real.

       While the link she shared with him was blocked from his end she could determine some few things. Something had changed, something in him. She didn't know what but she knew it was something important. Unfortunately though she wasn't sure what, if anything there was she could do about it.

       "I still mean it Harry. It doesn't matter if you hate me, it doesn't matter if you don't want me around, I still meant it. I will die for you Harry. The same way as I will kill, live and love you, no matter what..." She whispered the words, dashing the tears from her eyes.

       He would have to speak with her soon.

       She hoped.

       "I love you."

===

       Voldemort sat quietly as several Death Eaters reported to him. He knew how his forces had pulled up after the battle but some of the specifics were only now coming to light and as much as he enjoyed his amusements with Bulstrode and Zabini it was time to get back to work. Especially if he wanted to see Harry in his bed again anytime soon. The Shadows had been clear on that.

       He allowed himself a small smile. It would appear that when it came to a particular green-eyed Gryffindor that he had somewhat of a one-track mind.

       "So how are the Eastern European forces doing?"

       "With the Ministries there also fighting the Vampires, they are still holding their own but, my Lord, that probably won't last. Xeoaph will most likely call in the alliances and they will begin targeting your forces soon."

       "Ah," he sighed. It was to be expected. He would have to start gathering supporters quickly to reinforce his position or he risked losing further ground. "Tell them to hold out as long as they can," he instructed, "But for now everyone is to remain in hiding, until the first target is decided upon. I only need one thing done immediately."

       "My Lord?"

       "As much as I despise that insipid paper, if I cannot destroy them it is time they began working for me. I think it's time I granted an exclusive interview."

       The Death Eater's eyes widened but they were wise enough to say nothing passed their confirmation of his orders. "It will be done, my Lord."

       "Good."

       The red masked Death Eater bowed and vanished.

       "As for you werewolf," the Dark Lord looked into the shadows where another being waited, "I need you to get in contact with your leaders. Let them know that I'm more than willing to discuss terms with them."

       "We'll see," the were growled before leaving.

       "We will indeed," Voldemort said after the creature had left. "Nagini!"

       -Yes.-

       -Are they gathered?-

       -Yes, although you should speak with them.-

       The Dark Lord rose, his red eyes burning as he stepped forward. He hissed softly and his skin began to discolour, scales appearing. With a sibilant hiss he shed his human form as he became the true Serpent Lord.

       Split snake eyes looked down at Nagini before he lowered himself completely to his now serpentine belly. -I will speak with them,- he hissed easily, his inflections to those who knew what to listen for now far more arrogant and assured. In this form, the serpents could not deny him.

===

       Harry sat at the table. Sirius had brought him down early and was now sitting under the table on his feet as Snuffles. It was actually very nice to have his own personal foot warmer and in the event that anyone tried anything stupid, they would be doubly foolish to do it in the presence of his Godfather. He hadn't missed the small signs of frustration in Sirius' human form. The man was looking for a way to prove that he could protect him.

       It was going to be an interesting morning. Most of the school didn't know he was back and he was looking forward to their reactions when they walked in for breakfast. Then once that was settled, he was going to enjoy Blaise and Millicent's distress although he had been careful to keep that anticipation from the Phoenix he could now feel. That wouldn't be for a few days yet... but he was enjoying the anticipation. It should put them into a fine dither so close to their OWLs, and not to mention their summer plans. He didn't really know what happened to orphaned wizard children but... He suppressed a tight grin.

       The initiation into the Order had gone as well as could be expected, he supposed. He couldn't feel Xaos but wasn't overly worried. The Shadows had assured him that the serpent was unharmed. Besides if he could feel him, there was the chance that the phoenix could feel him as well.

       It wasn't so much that the phoenix was within him, not like the way the Dark Lord or Xaos were, it was that there was a small presence there. It wasn't an active link but it was something he knew was recording things and when Fawkes wanted he could access it. So for the moment his true self was trapped. He only hoped that the resentment he couldn't hide would be taken as nothing more than usual teenage frustrations.

       He'd be able to judge better how much this was going to affect things after he had that talk with Dumbledore tonight.

       Harry resisted the urge to sigh... He had to talk with Dumbledore. He wasn't looking forward to it but it was necessary. He also had to speak with Ginny. The bond the girl had formed was still there and they needed to deal with that. He some idea but he didn't know what she wanted to do. He hoped she'd be mature about it. And he had to find some time to speak with Remus. If the Shadows were talking with the werewolves then he wanted to know more about them. When he considered what he knew, then he came to the conclusion that he really didn't know much. Oh, he knew the facts but the facts were so sterile. He wanted to know something more personal.

       Then depending on how everything went he really needed to speak with Sirius because he needed his Godfather to do some specific things. And then he really should try to find a serpent so that he could communicate with his beloved. They shared a bond but it was not something they could use. Not with the Phoenix.

       Although... he frowned... Would it be possible to seduce Fawkes?

       :No,: the Shadows whispered but offered no further explanation.

       Harry sighed softly. He should have expected that. So for the moment, the last person he needed to speak with was Draco. He'd so hate for the boy to think that his efforts had not received anyone's attention. It would be fun to watch the blond squirm.

       There was so much for him to do.

       There was a stir at the door. Ravenclaws, Harry identified them by their house colour. They were surprised but no so surprised that they cried out or did anything stupid. Some of the older one's blinked before shrugging, pushing their younger housemates towards the table. There was more going on here than they knew but they were smart enough to know that they weren't going to get an explanation now or by standing in the door.

       He suppressed a smile. It was almost like a Hufflepuff. Speaking of which... a few of them had just trailed in, looking at him curiously. He nodded to a Fifth Year as they passed. Sigh... a few more Ravenclaw's, one or two younger Gryffindor's who smiled widely at him before moving further along the table and _finally_... the first Slytherin's.

       Not Draco... Older one's who'd probably been there. He resisted the urge to grin toothily at them although he felt the low growl from Sirius echoing through his feet. It was message enough, he reflected snaking one hand under the table to stroke his Godfathers ears.

       "Harry!" There was an ear-piercing squeal and he suddenly found his breathing restricted as a fluffy brown mass latched on to him. It was followed quickly by what seemed never ending waves of red.

       "Hermione," Harry laughed, returning her embrace before he looked up at the male Weasley's who had gathered around him.

       "You're all right, you're all right, you're all right!" The girl repeated the whisper.

       "Yes, I'm fine," he responded to her, pushing her back slightly, using the corner of his sleeve to wipe at her eyes. "I've been back for a day or so now."

       Blue eyes hardened. "Does Ginny know?"

       "Yes." He could answer that one truthfully. He might have closed the bond she had initiated but she could tell that much. "Sorry I couldn't tell you sooner," he added, knowing that they'd want an explanation. "But Dumbledore felt it best that at least for a day or so, no one knew. Sorry I worried you."

       "It doesn't matter," Hermione sobbed. "Just so long as you're okay."

       "I'm fine," Harry repeated. "I really don't know why he bothered this time. He was so busy co-ordinating that strike that I barely saw him and the first time I'm in his presence for any length of time, the pains too much and I instinctively apparated back!" He grinned.

       That was the story Dumbledore had settled on the other day. Of course, with his Initiation into the Order, there was a new layer now, that the Dark Lord had kidnapped him to place the serpent Xaos within him, thus gaining a valuable spy within the ranks of Light. The Order of course had saved the day by saving him from himself.

       "Thank goodness!"

       "You'll have to tell us everything later mate," Ron said, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder before he sat down. In a lower tone of voice he whispered, "You'd better see Ginny. Don't do this again, or I'll kill you. We were worried."

       Harry looked over at him, green eyes reflecting his thanks. "I'll talk to her," he promised as quietly serious as his friend had been, "and I'll try. Now let's eat!" He finished loudly enough to be heard by the others surrounding him.

       He sighed as he filled his plate with sausages. It was good that they were concerned but in the distraction caused by the entry of his friends he'd missed Draco and companions reaction his presence.

       :We'll show you later.:

       :You'd better.:

       Right now the blond looked tense but only if you knew what to look for. He'd obviously had time to get used to the story of Harry's abduction and had come to the conclusion that eventually he would be back. Although the reality of the situation was probably troubling him greatly, he'd seen Harry's body. He knew he had not failed.

       Grey eyes meet emerald for a moment and the promise to talk was exchanged. Heh, he could hardly wait.

       Breakfast was a subdued affair and Harry could tell from the buzz around him that most of the students were just bursting to ask him where he had been and what it had been like. He could hear the whispered speculation but kept his face neutral. Although, you could tell everyone was expecting an announcement because no one wandered off after eating to get ready for their first classes.

       Eventually Dumbledore decided to notice the air of anticipation and he rose. He chuckled slightly at the speed with which the murmurs disappeared as he became the centre of attention.

       "Never let it be said that a body of students cannot be quiet," he started with an undertone of amusement as his blue eyes twinkled. "Try to hold on to this quiet for your classes today."

       Snape rolled his eyes at the advice. He wasn't that lucky.

       "As I'm sure all of you have noticed, Mr Potter is back amongst the student body, thanks to the combined efforts of the Order of the Phoenix and the Aurors."

       There was a polite smattering of applause.

       "As I'm sure you have also noticed Auror troops are positioned around the school to prevent this from happening again. This time it was courageous young Harry, next time... well, there will not be a next time," the Headmaster's eyes were hard. "As a community we must work together from now on and through the efforts of us all we will find that our differences aren't so great. Ah... but now is not the time for speeches as you all have classes to attend and for the fifth and seventh years, last minute study revision, I'm sure. For the moment though, I would ask that you refrain from asking Mr Potter about his ordeal as he is already working with Auror's to locate the Dark Lord.

       "Now... to class." The ancient wizard brought his hands together in a loud clap as he sat back down. It was a clear dismissal and most students after looking at him for a few more moments, shrugged and turned to leave.

       "Come on, Harry, you've got a tonne of revision!" Hermione pulled lightly on Harry's sleeve.

       He smiled up at her. "Actually I don't," he said softly. "I wasn't going to tell you, but because of what happened, the Auror's asked the Ministry if I could take my OWL's over the summer since they want me to help them now."

       "But, but... that means..." Hermione seemed flabbergasted.

       "I know."

       "You lucky devil!" Ron moaned. "That means I'm all alone!"

       "Oh, poor Ronniekin's is all alone," Fred and George cowled!

       "Come on then Ron," Hermione said briskly after she'd finished processing this new information. "We've got to study! I'll give you my notes from the classes you missed later then Harry."

       "Aw, geez," Ron groaned as he got up. "Do you think I could get the goblins to kidnap me?"

       "Nah," Fred shook his head, laughing as Hermione dragged his baby brother out of the hall, "You don't want that."

       "You couldn't afford the repayments!" George added as his brother disappeared.

       The twins sat down opposite Harry, effectively isolating him from the rest of the school as they moved towards their class rooms. "Shouldn't you be going to class?" Harry asked softly.

       "We will, we will."

       "We just had to check that our financier is in tip-top condition."

       "Thank you."

       "Nothing to it, mate, nothing to it."

       "Just go see our sister."

       "We mean it."

       "Or she'll make your life not worth living."

       "Believe us, we _know_."

===

       Harry looked up at the High table once the Hall was cleared. Since it was only revision this morning for fifth and seventh years he didn't have to be anywhere. Most of the teachers had left since they had classes for the sixth years and other lower levels. Dumbledore was watching him carefully but the old man seemed happy enough. He nodded towards him as he rose.

       "I think I'll visit Ginny, sir," he said.

       "I think that would be a good idea," Dumbledore agreed. "I've been meaning to speak with Miss Weasley myself, so perhaps you can put her at ease for me. I will speak with you later though, after dinner perhaps?"

       "I'm looking forward to it."

       Harry ruffled Sirius' ears at the toothy grin the large black dog gave him. He'd figured out that his Godfather spent so much time in his animagus form because it was easier to hide his true mind that way. He unfortunately didn't have that option and so was left with a slight feeling of lethargy from the continued strain of trying to keep his true self hidden all the time.

       He was getting better, and he would continue get better at it, he knew. But during this early stage it was frustrating. He just hoped that he could pass off any early mistakes as a side effect of being kidnapped by the Dark Lord.

       This time of the morning the corridors were empty but even though he couldn't see them, he knew the shadows were skittering around him, checking everything, and Sirius was sniffing the air almost continuously, his canine nose far more sensitive than his eyes.

       Harry paused as Mrs Norris jumped down in front of him, hissing, her ragged coat matted. She spat at him and he could see that her claws were unsheathed. He just stared back, green meeting green as Sirius growled, his coat bristling. It took no more than a moment and after it was over Harry smiled slightly. She'd flinched. The threat inherent in his eyes and in the charcoal eyes of his Godfather had been too much and her animal instincts had collapsed and by her actions she had declared him her superior. For a cat, she had fought well, far better than her master.

       "Don't get in my way," he whispered to her, reaching down to stroke her head before he tugged lightly on the tuft of her ear. "Don't ever get in my way."

       Mrs Norris yowled and ran off. She was only a cat, true, but she knew Hogwarts inside and out and while her master was no more than a petty inconvenience, a petty inconvenience at the wrong time could spell disaster. Better to find alternatives for such nuisances early.

       Or course out of the two females he had to deal with today, the cat was relatively easy. As he stepped into the Infirmary he couldn't help but shake his head. He really didn't know what exactly to do about Ginny but all things considered he knew he had no choice but to be honest with her. She had been honest with him, perhaps that was the problem, she had been too honest.

       "Harry!" Madam Promfrey greeted him brightly. "It's good to see you."

       He smiled towards the nurse. She had done so much for him and she didn't even recognise it, for her it was nothing more than her job but to him it had been priceless. She had earnt his regard many times over and he knew, at the very least, she had earnt his beloved's mercy if that was her choice. "It's good to be here when I'm not a patient," he said easily.

       "So who are you here to see?"

       "Ginny, if she's awake."

       Madam Promfrey laughed, a short giggle of amusement. "The poor dear will be ecstatic to see you, but try to keep her calm, understand?"

       "I will," he promised as the nurse pointed him towards the right cubicle.

       Harry paused before he went in, gathering himself. With what she had done, this was not going to be easy. There was definitely a part of him that could have loved her had things been different. He sighed, it almost didn't seem fair.

       No... it just wasn't fair.

       But he had dealt with that. Life wasn't fair.

       Ginny was reading and she hadn't heard him. He smiled again slightly. The sunlight shimmered off her hair making the usual firy read tresses look like they were mixed the molten gold. She was still a child, her body was only beginning to develop but she was going to be an extra-ordinarily beautiful woman.

       "Ginny?" He murmured softly.

       She gasped, looking up, sapphire blue eyes locked on to him with an almost panicked look. Her mouth moved but no sound came out.

       He smiled gently. "It's okay, it's okay," he said as he walked further into her small cubicle to sit on the bed.

       Tears welled up in her eyes. "You're okay," she finally whispered, reaching up to wipe the tears away.

       Harry nodded, making shushing sounds, reaching out to take her hand. "Just relax," he said easily as Sirius curled up at his feet.

       "I'm so happy! You're okay, you're okay." Ginny lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him as she sobbed into his chest.

       "It's okay," he repeated, trying to sooth her. He didn't exactly have a plan for this conversation but this was not during anything that he had thought about. He wasn't sure he liked her crying. There was something vaguely disquietening.

       Ginny sniffed as she looked up at him, her eyes becoming hard, "Don't ever do that again!" She demanded. "Not ever."

       "I don't plan on."

       "Harry, I mean it. Don't ever do that again. I meant what I have said to you, what I vowed to you. I will die for you, Harry. I will die for you Harry. At any time, I will transfer my life energy to you and die happy."

       "Shush," he murmured, looking around. "Not yet," he added, whispering in her ear as he returned her embrace as a cover for the charm he was about to perform.

       " _Silencias_ ," he whispered, focusing his power on the wand that lay along his forearm. The charm took and radiated outwards and Harry allowed his eyes to change for an instant to see that it had only extended as far as Ginny's partition. He pulled back from the embrace with a small satisfied smile.

       The youngest Weasley looked down at her hands. She'd sensed the charm and on one level was grateful that Harry was so discrete but on another she wanted everyone to know in the hope that it would strengthen her ties to him. But she knew that wasn't the way. "You..." she began softly again, unsure exactly how to begin.

       A year or so ago, she'd drawn up a list of people who could possibly be rivals for Harry's attention. Hermione had featured prominently as had Cho Chang, and almost every other female in Hogwarts, including the Slytherin's because she knew Harry could see beyond the petty rivalries of the Houses. She'd even gone so far as to include a space for an unknown Muggle Girl. She had considered the possibility of a male rival but that had been removed when she had considered Harry's obvious attraction to Cho. The possibility had been further reduced by the irrevocable fact that another man, no matter how magical, simply could not give Harry children, children he would need as the sole remaining Potter.

       And then, she'd systematically gone through the list and determined ways of... well, eliminating them sounded so wrong, but methods of illustrating to Harry as to why she was better, why she loved him more. In the end, she'd managed to remove, at least in her mind, everyone except the unknown Muggle and Hermione, but Hermione had eliminated herself when she'd stayed with them that summer. The affection between Ron and her had been obvious and Ginny had been ecstatic, not just because they would be happy together, but because it meant that the competition had again been reduced and she really wasn't sure how she'd have been able to compete with the older witch. Hermione might be Muggle-born but she was just good at everything - Ginny had been honest enough to admit that. With Miss Granger out of the way, that just left a Muggle Girl, and while it was a big unknown, Ginny had been sure she could compete.

       She had never once thought, never once dreamed that she would be in competition with Him. Even if her long shot possibility of Harry liking men had been true, there should have been no way for it to be Him.

       "You... you love him, don't you?" She finally choked the question out.

       In all her considerations, in all her planning there was one thing she knew she couldn't plan around, couldn't anticipate, couldn't control and it seemed as if she had been beaten by that one variable. The most important variable - Harry's heart.

       Harry looked at her through emerald eyes that seemed to shimmer with content. "I do," he said with a soft smile.

       Ginny felt the sting of tears in her eyes despite her efforts to keep them at bay. She'd known he loved him, she'd known for weeks now... so she shouldn't be crying over it. "So there is no hope?" She knew, but she couldn't help but ask.

       Emerald eyes looked confused for an instant and Harry felt an odd shift within himself as he saw Ginny's tears. "I will always love him," he said, some part unable to outright crush the tiny nub of hope she still had to feel to ask such a question.

       Ginny was silent, one hand reaching out to wipe the tears that had gathered in her eyes. She looked at him, blinking blue eyes carefully as she fought to remain in control. "I will always love you," she said softly, unable to deny the truth. It didn't matter what Harry felt, what Harry did. For her, that was the truth.

       "I know," Harry said sadly. "I know, that's why I'm here. I want us to start again."

       Despite her pain, Ginny's eyes narrowed as she considered this. "What do you mean?"

       "I love him Ginny. I will love him for all time but this half bond, no matter how much you might protest otherwise, is not fair on you. I want us to start again."

       "How?"

       Harry winced at the note of suspicion in her voice. But it didn't matter, he was going to do this, one way or another. The half bond was not fair on her, but it was also a security risk for him, one he could not afford, not with the battles that would come.

       "I will break the bond," he said smoothly, logically. "And we will proceed from there."

       " _No!_ "

       "Ginny, please don't make me force you."

       "No, I don't want to lose even that. I meant it Harry. I will die for you, but if you take that away..."

       "I... we... we can keep part of it," he said quietly. "But I will have to break most of it. I want us to be equal Ginny, and we can't do that while you are tied, servant like to me. And I can't complete the bond with you, because I love him. If we do this now, Ginny, one day we can reform another bond... together." Harry felt the tug on his consciousness again and he suddenly found himself face to face with blazing emerald eyes.

       " _What_ are you doing?" His voice hissed at him.

       "What are _you_ doing?" he returned the question, shouting at his true self. "What's she going to think when I zone out for a while, for no good reason? What is _Madam Promfrey_ going to think?"

       "Time is meaningless here. It will be less than a second. Now what are you doing?! You exist to protect me, not tie me down to some wrench!"

       "I am protecting you!"

       "You are also protecting yourself, something you shouldn't need. You are me!"

       "No, I'm not," Normally wide emerald eyes narrowed as they looked at the other. "You are the me who is but I am the me who was meant to be."

       "But you are not! I am me."

       "I know. I am nothing more than a possibility that has now fallen to the wayside. But _you_ have given me form, and you have given me strength and definition, and I am no longer a vague possibility. You are stronger, yes, and you could crush me but then I couldn't protect you." _That_ wasn't anything his true self didn't know. What he had created, he could destroy but creation had been for protection, and the destruction of such protection was not in his true self's interest. That was something his true self also knew. "Do not worry. You are me and I am you, we are different facets of the other. I will protect you because that is the only way I can protect myself. And I will protect you without question, without hesitation _but_ in order for me to protect you, to protect us, I am going to have to live."

       "Why her?"

       "She is powerful, she does love me, and more importantly, she will not betray us. Who else would you have me choose?"

       " _No one!_ We already have a mate."

       "I am the me who _was meant to be!_ I was _never_ meant to have that mate. I love him though, even as you do but I am also attracted to others, other's perhaps that I should have loved."

       His true self looked back at him through narrowed eyes, calculating the implications as tiny motes of power flickered through his fingers. In his mind, anything was possible. At the moment, this division in self was necessary, but he did not have to like it. When he thought of his lover he wanted to think of ruby eyes, black hair and a commanding presence within him, he didn't want to think of blue eyes, red hair and a fragility he'd be afraid of shattering on the first thrust.

       "If you truly do not like her, I will pick another, rather than be forced. But I doubt another will be as loyal."

       "I would rather you pick no one."

       "We don't have that choice."

       "But if you love her..."

       "Yes, then you will love her..."

       " _She_ will always be second to me."

       " _He_ will always be second to me."

       His true self began pacing, obviously angry with the choices he had but equally knowing that there was no other option. "All right," he finally growled coming to a halt as the energy faded. "But _only_ her."

       "Only her as a lover. The others will be as you do."

       "As I do," his true self sniggered. "Better be careful," he added the warning.

       "I will," Harry responded as he was released to look back at Ginny. In the instant it had taken him to come to the agreement with himself she hadn't moved although there was a look of consideration on her face.

       "Harry," she gulped finally, once again pushing back tears, "all right," she gave her quiet agreement. "I promised I would love you and that means I will do anything to see you happy, no matter what the cost to me. _But_ " her voice became firm, "you _will not_ remove my vow and the means to die for you because if it ever comes to it, I will give my life energy for you and consider the cost small. My other vows, while true, can still be carried out without the bond."

       Harry looked at her closed, emerald eyes half hooded. This was important to her, no matter how much he might wish otherwise, she was not going to settle for anything less. "I can accommodate that, but I want you to always remember, I would much rather you live for me, than die."

       She smiled, somewhat wanly. "I would much rather live as well."

       "Good," he said. "Ginny... I cannot say that I love you, because I don't or rather I do, but in the same way as I love Ron and Hermione, as my friends but... the _possibility_ exists for me to love you as something more. That's why I want us to do this, so that that possibility can develop, unhindered by the past. I will never love you the way I love him, because you aren't him but I believe I will come to love you as you."

       "Equal to him?"

       "Maybe, but he will always be my first love. I can't change that."

       Ginny smiled. It was not sad and Harry frowned slightly. "You know Harry," she said, "There is one thing I worked out when it came to you. While I would have been happy to be your first love, I'm honest enough to admit, I don't care what number I am, so long as I know I am loved. That is more important to me and you are giving me that chance."

       Green eyes looked distant for a moment. "It is all I can give you," he murmured. "But it will not be as easy as you think."

       "I know," she said. "I know and I have known for a while that to love you was to be a target but I accepted that Harry. Just as I will always accept you, no matter what happens. Even if in the end, everyone turns from you, for what you will do, I will still be there, Harry. I will always be there."

       Harry nodded, slightly shaky at the strength of her conviction as he reached out to hug her again. He would always have his Beloved, and that would be enough but in the end it was nice to know that he'd have at least one other who would still accept him. "I will break it tonight," he said to her, retracting his silencing charm. "And tomorrow, we can begin again."

       There was a flash of sadness from her but she nodded bravely. _Just give me a chance, Harry,_ she thought. _I will make it enough._

===

       Sirius paced back and forth in his chambers. Harry was currently closeted with Dumbledore and he'd left the two of them alone so that neither of them would feel hindered by his presence. Harry could ask whatever he wanted and he fully expected that there were things the Headmaster only wanted to reveal to Harry.

       He wasn't overly worried. His Godson had gotten through the Initiation without revealing himself, a simple conversation should be easy.

       No, he was more worried about the Dark Lord himself...

       Harry was so sure.

       That was the problem.

       Sirius could see it in his eyes, well hidden but there, the soft open love for the man, the quiet acceptance of everything the serpent represented.

       He was slightly bothered by the intensity of the feeling but what bothered him more was the unknown. Harry assured him that the Dark Lord... _Heh! Some Godfather I am, I can't even think his name..._ that the Dark Lord Voldemort returned his feelings. _Now I can't even think the word._ The shadows had assured him of the Dark Lord's love but he had yet to see it for himself.

       That's what was bothering him.

       Of all the things he knew should have been bothering him about the situation - like the entire situation itself - it was the fact that he had yet to see Voldemort demonstrate his affection towards his Godchild that was bothering him the most.

       The torture of the Muggles who had hurt Harry came close, but that could be passed off as the desire for revenge and was... well... it was impersonal, it was something he would have done himself if he hadn't already been beaten to the Muggles.

       No, he wanted to see something only the Dark Lord could do, something only the Serpent Lord could do to prove that he loved Harry, something personal... But he wasn't sure what.

       He wanted to _talk_ to someone about it, darn it, but he knew he couldn't. There was no one who would understand his concerns because there was no one who would entertain the possibility of Harry and the Dark Lord being anything other than enemies. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he was ready for that possibility... And if anyone ever did know...

       That would be a disaster all in itself.

       He sighed again. If Harry was so sure then there wasn't much he could do about it besides stay by his Godson's side. If he stayed there long enough, and he intended to stay there forever in an effort to make up for his past lack of attention, he would get his proof.

       :In time, the whole world will have your proof.:

       _Heh!_ Sirius grinned as he recognised the voice. _If that's what it takes..._ He shrugged as he felt the chill of the shadows against his skin and was comforted.

       If that's what it took then that's what it took and he would abide by Harry's choice.

       But if Voldemort hurt him... He would sacrifice whatever it took, give the shadows everything if that's what they needed.

       :He will answer to us!:

===

       Draco gnawed on one nail as he looked down at the transfiguration square before him. His family had connections so he was not concerned about his results from the upcoming OWLs, but as the heir to the Malfoy line he still had to know things, and had to be proficient in magic, so as annoying as it was, he did study. It was his responsibility especially now that his Father was occupied. He would have to fend for himself, for a while, but it was nothing the Heir of the Dark Lord couldn't manage.

       But right at the moment he couldn't focus his attention on the archaic words. The sight that had greeted him at breakfast just would not leave his head - the Gryffindork, Harry Potter sitting happily at the table surrounded by the pathetic Weasels and the Mudblood. With a small sigh he pushed the parchment away.

       When Dumbledore had relayed information of Potter's _kidnapping_ not death, he'd known something was wrong, that the Headmaster was trying some scheme although why the ancient wizard would be doing that was questionable.

       Still he admitted to a small start of surprise this morning because he, Draco Malfoy _knew_ what he was seeing just wasn't possible.

       The Gryffindork was dead.

       :Of course he is.:

       He'd felt the shock of impact from the force of the curse himself. He knew the chill in his soul, the absolute feeling of power that came from the success of the _Avada Kedrava_ curse. He knew that Potter was dead.

       :You killed him yourself.:

       Exactly!

       :So how could he be there at breakfast?:

       That was the question.

       What was Dumbledore playing at that he would even use the image of the de...?

       Draco suppressed a chuckle. That was it.

       Potter was dead. He knew that but the whole point to killing the Gryffindork had been to eliminate the possibility of hope for the masses and Dumbledore was crafty enough to know that and he was sly enough that he wasn't going to allow it without a fight. Hadn't his father constantly complained about the ruthlessness of the Headmaster and why no one would see it for what it was?

       Ruthlessness in a Gryffindor, it seemed, was viewed as single-minded determination to reach a goal.

       Ruthlessness in a Slytherin was viewed as proof of their ability to betray anything, evidence of their sly, cold natures.

       But in this case it was the Headmaster who was reflecting the Slytherins.

       If the wizarding world was to lose hope now, there would be no stopping the Dark Lord and while Dumbledore was old, he was not senile. For the moment the Ministry couldn't afford Harry to die, so they simply weren't going to let him, hence the story about the kidnapping. What did it matter if he was dead, so long as no one believed it?

       But since Harry couldn't be kidnapped forever, Dumbledore had to do something... It's been about a week or so... Draco considered. Not enough time for any normal wizard to brew a Poly Juice potion but it would probably be enough time, barely for a Potion Master... And Severus was looking rather tired.

       Draco smiled. Yes. That made sense. It more than made sense no matter which way he looked at it.

       :What about the Dog?:

       Wait... that was true. The Dog just wouldn't allow his Godson's image to be used in such a manner...

       On the other hand, the man was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. If Dumbledore had planned this, then he wouldn't have a choice. In fact, he probably was the one masquerading as Harry... It would be easy enough to find a real dog to act as him in his animagus form. That was about the only thing that made sense to him...

       The younger Malfoy leaned back in his chair, absently brushing the tip of his quill over his lips as he once more reviewed the facts. Or what he thought were the facts.

       The Gryffindork was dead.

       The Light couldn't afford to have Potter die therefore they had said he was kidnapped.

       Potter could not remain kidnapped forever so at some point he would have to be rescued and returned to Hogwarts which lead to the current situation.

       Someone was masquerading as Harry, someone who knew him well enough to act out to his friends and the only someone who could possibly do that was the Dog, willingly or otherwise. After all, while Harry provided hope, there was no way anyone expected a sixteen year old to prevail against the Dark Lord so whoever it was camouflaged as him wouldn't have to do so in a combat situation. And with the lack of classes because of the study time in preparation for the OWLs, there would be no chance for anyone to examine the impostor's abilities against Potters. The situation would only become dangerous for the Light if they let it continue too long but...

       In time, say over the summer, once the battle became more ingrained in the community, Draco was sure that 'Harry' would suffer some sort of heroic accident...

       If such a thing was not so dangerous to his Dark Lord Father, Draco would have found the precarious situation of the Light amusing. Precarious though it was, it could still cause too much damage and he had to expose this false Harry as soon as possible.

       "I suddenly find myself wanting to talk with a certain Gryffindor," he mused, as he looked back to the transfiguration parchment. "It should be interesting to see how deep they are digging their graves."

       :Or how deep you're digging yours.:

===

       Remus looked through narrowed eyes across the table at the man who sat before him.

       This was not what he had been expecting.

       "Are you certain?" He'd already asked once or twice before, but this was so unprecedented he wasn't sure what to think.

       "It's come from a few Pack members," the other man responded evenly. He'd asked the same question himself. "As far as we can tell, it's genuine."

       "But who?"

       "That's the question."

       "What do the others think?"

       The man snorted as if the answer should have been obvious. "They're tentatively for it."

       "What does the Pack think?"

       "They're..." The man struggled for a bit. "They're hopeful but at the same time they aren't."

       Remus smiled, nodding. "We're seen as animals that should be hunted down and destroyed, or we are seen as weapons that rip, claw and destroy, or worse, bite to swell our ranks. We are only ever rarely seen as human. They are wondering where the catch is, am I right?"

       The man sighed. There was a reason Lupin, despite his seeming prominence in Wizarding Society was a pack leader. He understood and he could explain. "Yes," he agreed. "The Ministry would kill us, the Dark Lord would use us, and it's been that way for centuries. Now someone will see us as human? The Pack wants it to be true but they don't want to be betrayed."

       "This could too easily be a trick."

       "They know, that's why they are unsure."

       Remus sighed. The news the Pack messenger brought was stunning. He needed time to think. "Do you need my answer now?"

       "I need _an_ answer now. I have to tell the others."

       Lupin scratched between his eyes, feeling tired. "With everything else that's happening, this is going to require a Gathering."

       "That will be dangerous."

       "If this is true, then it will be worth it."

       The other werewolf nodded, his eyes sombre. There hadn't been a Gathering of Pack Leaders for over fifty years because the last time, the Ministry had found out and had slaughtered them all, leading to the new young, inexperienced Pack Leaders siding with Grindlewald in retaliation. It was not something the Ministry was going to let them forget, despite their role in it.

       "All right," Remus finally said, after thinking long and hard for a few moments. "Tell the others I need to know more before I make a decision. With the Dark Lord's re-emergence stronger than expected we can expect offers from both the Ministry and the Dark Lord. This, if true, might offer us an alternative, but only if they are allied with the winning side. Once we know more, we are going to have to risk a Gathering to decide either way."

       The man nodded. He'd expected such a response but he had to be sure. "Where can I find you next, because I know I'll be doing messenger service for a while."

       "I'll be at Hogwarts over the summer. After that, I'm not sure."

       "There'll be answers before then."

       Lupin nodded. "How are things generally?" He asked.

       "Difficult. Barely enough of us can get any type of work to support the rest. We've tried doing Muggle jobs, you know, labouring and stuff like that, but the Ministry was on us in a flash sprouting some rubbish about magical creatures not being allowed to intermingle with Muggles. If we were truly that 'magical' we wouldn't be in this situation!"

       Remus nodded again, his eyes wise. "Does anyone need special attention?"

       "At the moment, thank god no! We couldn't afford it. We are so close to lost."

       "Fudge was not easy."

       "Fudge was easy," the man returned. "It was his helpers and their laws that are difficult."

       "I'll see if I can't get Dumbledore to pressure for their retraction."

       The werewolf's eyes opened wide. It was sometimes easy to forget who Remus had contacts with. "That would help, Pack Leader," he said formally. "That would help."

       "I lead to serve," Remus said the ritual phrase.

       "We follow to remember," the return phrase was uttered as the man rose.

       "Try, please," he said softly, almost inaudibly. "If something's not done soon we will have a split in the Pack."

       Lupin closed his eyes as the Pack messenger disappeared in the tavern, leaving to spread the news of this new offer and to speak with the other Pack Leaders. The warning didn't seem urgent, had anyone else heard it, but Remus knew that they, the Pack was almost at breaking point. They were so close to lost. The words were desperate and too true. The Ministry didn't know how close they were to destroying them. And faced with institutionalised destruction on one hand or the loss of humanity on the other, many Pack members, who had been told they were less than human for years, would take the only path for survival, because while it was destructive, it was still an affirmation of self that all living beings sought. And then the Ministry would just have further cause to hunt them, incapable of differentiating between those werewolves who had been pushed too far, and those who had tried to hold on to neutrality. Mercy was not something they believed in for mere animals.

       The Dark Lord hadn't yet made his appeal for their support, but it was only a matter of time. Remus doubted they would be able to stall him as they had fifteen years ago but they'd be able to for a little while. Although with the strength of the attack he had launched, the Ministry would by force be looking for allies. Perhaps they could bargain to get laws that Fudge's administration had unfairly levelled against them revoked. Sort of as a good will gesture. And now there was a third option. One that didn't seem to come from either the Dark Lord or the Ministry and one that seemed too good to be true.

       Until he knew more he didn't want to think about it.

       Remus rose, leaving a knut on the table as payment for his drink. Dumbledore was expecting him soon, and as much as he respected the ancient wizard, he was not able to give the man an excuse to look into his travels.

       It would be too dangerous for the Pack and when he had become a Leader he had sworn an oath in blood that he would die before he betrayed the Pack.

       But on the other hand, his decision of seventeen years passed would stand. He would not condone a course of action that would ultimately lead to their extinction.

       Leader or not, outcast or not, he knew where he stood.

 

 


	4. Play the Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text Key  
> :blah: Telepathic conversation  
> -blah- Parseltongue  
> $blah$ Phoenix talk

Weapon   
Chapter 4 Play the Game

===

       **X** eoaph flexed his fingers, admiring the ripple of sinew and muscle and the way the knuckle bones pressed on his skin, close to the surface when he made a fist, his forearm muscles tense. He was almost healed, the exhaustion he should never have felt from loaning Lucius his power, was gone. He was ready to go speak with the Wizards, to force them to see the truth about this Dark Lord and to offer them an alliance never before heard of.

       His children had healed as well. While it would take time for them to accept the losses they were ready to extract revenge. It would also take time to replace the fallen but that was something they all understood. While the physical process to become a vampire was easy, it was not as random as some Muggle movies and most Wizards believed. Each potential candidate was screened and assessed, their worth determined before they were either accepted or eaten. When you lived eternally, you could not afford to have those who were unsuitable within your ranks.

       His blue eyes narrowed. There was a disturbance at the entrance... He listened again.

       It wasn't hostile. His children weren't attacking... No... they were... awed?

       Blue eyes snapped open as Xeoaph brushed up against the presence entering his domain.

       "Master," he'd whispered the word before was aware he had spoken, jumping to the ground to abase himself before the one who had made him.

       The elder waved the gesture of respect away with a flick of her slim hand. Her two flanking guards watched him with calculating eyes. He didn't expect anything else and rather forcefully reminded himself to keep his movements steady in their presence. These two had been his Masters Guards for as long as he could remember and there was a reason they were still there. Nothing got passed them, nothing. "Master, why are you here?" He didn't look up.

       "I read my childe. And I always know when one of my children is in to deep, or in this case, when the humans are playing with things better left alone. The shadows are moving."

       "The shadows have moved before," Xeoaph said softly, concerned about the slight note of worry he could hear in his Master's voice. He knew without looking that she was examining everything, almost as if searching for something.

       "They have, but they have not been this confident for over one thousand years. They are everywhere, my childe, _even_ here!" Slim fingers flicked through ancient symbols, long forgotten and a sphere of energy coalesced at her call before it was thrown into a corner.

       There was a scream and the vampire winced at the noise, noting that only his Master seemed unaffected. Around the energy sphere motes of darkness scattered, almost like rats running everywhere. They reformed into a shadow on the stone before it rose slightly, two points of absolute darkness forming the eyes that locked gazes with his Master.

       The shadow and the ancient vampire stared at each other for a few moments, another sphere of energy gathering between the vampires fingers before the shadow hissed, "To you."

       With that it vanished and Xeoaph felt more than saw his Master relax and became aware of exactly how tense her guards were.

       They were slightly more relaxed now that the shadow had departed but he could see the strain in their eyes. And if something was straining them...

       "There have been attacks?" He asked quietly.

       "I told you, they have not been this confident for centuries."

       Xeoaph nodded, looking down as he considered this information.

       "There has been no condemnation of your decision to help Malfoy. Most just think you were playing."

       Xeoaph's eyes blazed in sudden anger. "Do they not realise how dangerous this one is?" He growled.

       "Not yet," his Master responded. "But then on the other hand, humans are such an apathetic topic for us, it's not surprising. I gather though, my childe, you had a specific reason for wanting to see this Dark Lord destroyed?"

       Xeoaph shivered. He was sure his Master already knew everything and even if she didn't she could have known in an instant by forcing him to reveal what he knew but she was asking. There was something he didn't know. He struggled for a moment before sighing softly. There was no way to tread easily around his Master. No matter what she knew, she would tell him only if she thought it necessary and even if she didn't force him to talk, she wouldn't let him rest until she knew.

       "I... he... this Serpent Lord is the Dark Lord."

       "The Dark Lord?"

       "The one who controls the darkness, the shadows."

       "Impossible!"

       "I thought so myself, Master until I saw the Shadows obey him."

       "They obeyed him?"

       "He flicked the power at me and it burned."

       "That's not possible."

       "It burned. It felt like I was dying again."

       "The Dark Lord Voldemort is too corrupted to hold power over the shadows!"

       "It burned."

       His Master fell silent, flexing her fingers in an imitation of the gesture he had made earlier. "My childe," she said finally. "While I do not doubt that happened, it is impossible for this Dark Lord to hold that power. Caliph examined him, many years ago, and Riddle was already too corrupted then and it is not possible to purify yourself to that extent."

       Xeoaph nodded but was not quite ready to concede the point. "I do not doubt Caliph, Master but could an alliance between him and the shadows be possible. Because there was more than that one instant."

       "An alliance between him and the shadows is not possible, but an alliance been him and the Shadow master is possible," his Master said carefully. "That would also explain why they are so confident. Although... light does not treat well with dark... I would be interested in meeting such a Shadow Lord who could deal with the Dark Lord Voldemort."

       "Then that is what has happened," Xeoaph concluded, "although there must be more to their alliance that we have guessed at."

       "Oh?"

       Xeoaph opened his mind to his Master, allowing her to see his memories as he began his explanation. "I mean because of this," the vampire said as he recalled the end of the battle in the Atrium. He recalled with particular clarity the Dark Lord's words as he died, 'Vengeance will be mine,' and the rippling shock that had been present when Lucius' sword was stopped by another. But Xeoaph focused not on the Dark Lord and the small mage warrior who had taken his body but on the taller wizard who had appeared in the shards of the broken warding, the wizard who had wielded the shadows to destroy his children with a facility no wizard should even possess.

       "I know this man is only a servant of the Shadow Lord," Xeoaph began as he sensed his Master's anger at the destruction. After all, his children were her children. "But to use the shadows so easily he has to be a ranking servant and if the Shadow Lord is prepared to show himself so openly, and is prepared to resurrect the Serpent Lord then their alliance is quite... encompassing."

       "Or it is not an alliance at all," his Master said with narrowed eyes and a note of speculation in her voice. "If we are dealing with a Shadow Lord who is not afraid of his power, as the last one was, that would explain the shadows' arrogance, and it would be possible that the Serpent Lord is nothing more than the Shadow Lord's puppet which would explain why those two servants arrived late. He may not have been expecting Malfoy's interference... Although," the ancient vampire grinned tightly, her eyes glittering in anticipation, "I truly do wish to meet this Shadow Lord," she said with a laugh.

       "Master?"

       "No matter what the true situation is, my childe, I think it's obvious that this Shadow Lord knows how to play," her voice lost the amusement as she continued. "But they are playing our game, and the shadows are arrogant to think that they or their Master can play our game and win!

       "You will go to the Ministry," she said suddenly, eyes burning as he turned to face him, speaking in a voice which would bear no insubordination. "I... I think I will play this Lord's game. I will go to the Dark Lord. He will be over joyed to see me, I'm sure. The chance to humble you through me will be an opportunity he will not pass up."

       "Why not go to the Shadow Lord?"

       She smiled. "We know a lot of things, my childe. The shadows can be quite generous with information when you speak with them although that has changed of late but on the identity of their Master they are silent. I could torture one of them for eternity and they still would not speak on that. Their Master is the one thing they guard above all others, the one thing even they are afraid of losing. Their Master is their only weakness for without their Masters guidance and will they are nothing more than insubstantial shadows. But I will find them through the Serpent Lord, when they are sure of their power, they will reveal themselves to me, and then we will strike."

       "Master," Xeoaph bowed.

       Xeoaph's master nodded towards him. "I will however take Arabella with me."

       "She is very new, Master."

       "She is also a witch and a seduction gift from the Dark Lord. I'm sure _someone_ will appreciate the irony of me giving her back. We play the game, my childe, but we play to win."

===

       Harry closed his eyes as he retreated further into his mind. His body was currently sitting in Dumbledore's office waiting for the wizard to come to speak with him. It was probably better, safer, if he didn't know what was happening, since he wasn't sure how sensitive Fawkes was. The small piece of Fawkes couldn't sense him normally, but in the actual presence of the phoenix it was best not to take any chances. Besides, this would give him a chance to clarify a few things with the shadows.

       :I think you went a little too far,: he began as he felt Xaos' mental presence. The basilisk slithered up to him before coiling around him protectively. Harry couldn't help but smile as Xaos purred, butting his nose into his cheek gently for attention. He raised his hands to stroke at the great basilisk's crest as a shadow materialised in front of him.

       He felt it sift through his memories and his emerald eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at the shadow, it sighed. :You could be right.:

       :I need her,: Harry hissed, :as a cover, not as a lover! And if this copy of me loves her then I am stuck!:

       :We can prevent that from happening.:

       :Why didn't you just help me create a shade, rather than a whole copy? I could have used my animagus form like Sirius does!:

       :No, Master, you can't.:

       :Why not?:

       :Because Master, you aren't quite ready to become your animagus form, and your form is... somewhat... unique.:

       :Unique?:

       :Conspicuous too.:

       :What is it?:

       :No, we can't tell you yet. Only one half of you is ready to embrace it and the other,: the shadow indicated towards the copy that was still waiting for Dumbledore, :is not yet ready.:

       :I do not ever want them to be ready!:

       :Master,: the shadow began seriously. :To keep Fawkes from knowing the truth you are going to need her. And to be able to embrace your whole animagus form you are going to need him. He is subservient to you though, so what he feels you do not have to feel, and we will ensure that you do not love her. We would suggest though that for the moment you act as if you do, Master. Her seduction will be worth it and when the time comes the _Andalusian Bind_ will tie her to you.:

       :You're agreeing to this very easily.: Harry said suspiciously.

       The shadow looked back at him as if to say that he should know better by now. :We have told you Master, when you are happy, content, it is very easy for us to get what we want, what we need from you. When you are upset, angry or otherwise disappointed with us, then it is difficult.:

       :I could also destroy you.:

       :True but we do not believe you want to.:

       :If I end up loving her, I will want to.:

       :We know and therefore we _will ensure_ that doesn't happen. However you will need to cast the _Andalusian Bind_ on her once she is seduced.:

       :The bind where she will see me only as she imagines and obey without question? You seem sure of the need.:

       :You will be sure of the need as well. Well, you could use _Xanadu_ but you will probably want her to have more mind than a gibbering obedient mess.:

       -Master, if you aren't sure, may I eat her?- Xaos whispered into his ear.

       Harry laughed and stroked his face against the basilisk's looking into the serpents now red eyes. -You may,- he hissed happily, -but if they are so sure, then I will probably have to find another for you.-

       Xaos' tongue flickered. -I like the taste of the King on you. I do not like the taste of others.-

       -I do not like the taste of others,- Harry agreed.

       :As we told the Dark Lord, we will do everything in our power to see that you can lie with him again, Master.: the shadow said by way of parting.

       :And, as I'm sure he told you, see that you do!: Harry snarled as he returned his attention to the office, as Dumbledore walked into the room.

===

       **H** arry sat as he waited for the Headmaster. The ancient wizard was attending to a few last minute matters so that they could talk unhindered... Well unhindered short of a Dark Lord's attack, which if anyone had thought to ask him he could have told them wasn't going to happen. But they never thought to ask him although now that he had been inducted into the Order he was fairly sure that that would change.

       His true self was still sulking over choices that were not choices and he could vaguely sense that he was discussing things with the shadows. It actually made things easier, and he hoped that his other didn't do more than watch. Whatever decision was reached with the Shadows didn't concern him. He had been created to protect himself and that's what he would continue to do. The question of his reality, or of continued existence was not of concern. So long as his true self remained, then in some way he would also remain; although he was only a pale copy of he who was meant to be. He couldn't help but smile a little. No one else would ever have these thoughts and truly, when it came down to it, nothing else but the continued existence of his true self was of concern.

       _Nothing._

       Not lies, not lovers, not friends, not family.

       He wasn't quite sure what would happen if it came down to a choice between survival of the Dark Lord and his true self but he rather thought that if it ever came to that, his true self would have resumed complete control long before he would ever be forced to make that choice.

       Fawkes trilled at him and he turned his smile to the phoenix, his eyes glittering as the fire bird landed beside him and allowed him to stroke his soft plumage. The bird cooed happily, almost like a pigeon and closed his eyes as he leaned into the touch. Harry couldn't help but smile. It was so much like Xaos. The harmonics shifted, becoming deeper, slower as Fawkes fluffed his wings, lying down completely in Harry's lap.

       "Ah," Dumbledore's amused voice came from the door, "I see that Fawkes has convinced you of the virtue of petting him."

       "It would seem that way Headmaster."

       "He can be worse than Sirius at times."

       Fawkes snorted at the Headmaster, cracking open one eye to give the ancient wizard a derisive glance before he ruffled his feathers again and settled back down, obviously prepared to ignore anything further Dumbledore had to say.

       "It's all right," Harry murmured. "He makes me feel... He makes me feel safe," he said finally, knowing that any other response would not be accepted.

       Dumbledore smiled as he moved to his desk. "Sherbet Lemon?" he asked absently as he took one from the jar. When Harry shook his head the Headmaster looked up again, his eyes becoming serious. "How are you Harry?" He asked kindly. "You've had a rough couple of days, so how are you feeling?"

       "Fine... good even... considering... I think though if I had my OWLs now, I'd be in a much worse state. Thank you for postponing them."

       Dumbledore chuckled. "I pulled you out as much for the other students as for you Harry. It would be disheartening for them if you were to eclipse them up without studying."

       "Huh?" He blinked in an artful display of confusion.

       "It's okay, Harry. I already surmised that your... connection with Tom had gotten stronger since he took you from the Dursley's. You know things, don't you? Things you haven't learnt, things you shouldn't know but they are things he knows and somehow the information got transferred to you."

       Harry sniffed, eyes clouding with tears as he nodded. "Sometimes it's fun," he said, "but sometimes the information is too much. It's too evil," he whispered.

       "Harry," Dumbledore said sternly. "You must never think that. Show me your wand," he instructed.

       "It's not mine," Harry said.

       "Show me, please," the ancient wizard insisted.

       Harry nodded and slowly pulled out the wand that he now carried, thirteen inches of yew that many people would snap in an instant.

       "Is this wand evil?"

       "Huh?"

       "Is this wand evil?"

       Harry blinked.

       Dumbledore smiled encouragingly at him. "Tom now has your wand, correct?"

       "Yes."

       "Is your wand evil?

       "No."

       "So is that wand evil?"

       "No."

       "You see, Harry. The knowledge you have from Tom is not evil. It is the use you put it to. Although," the older wizard sighed. "If you have all of his knowledge, then I will admit that you have a greater knowledge of the Dark Arts than just about anyone. But the Dark Art's aren't evil by themselves Harry, it is the use of them that makes them evil. And we will help you with that."

       "He..." Harry began slowly, not really paying attention to the ancient wizard. "He had sex with me, didn't he?"

       Dumbledore froze. That wasn't a question he had been expecting.

       "I never knew who it was, except that they had red eyes and were so gentle. I should have known it was him, who else has red eyes? But I guess a part of me didn't want to know because it didn't hurt." He lowered his face to let the tears fall on Fawkes' plumage. "After all the others, I guess I wanted someone to see me, to want me. I didn't even fight him."

       "Shush," Dumbledore said as he moved to sit beside Harry, his hands stroked Harry's back. "You didn't know what you were doing. He made sure of that. Alastor detected a _Confu_ and a _Easasum_ charm. Tom didn't want you to know, and you were in no condition to resist those charms."

       "Why didn't you tell me?"

       "You were so convinced it was someone else, and dealing with the rest of your memories, we thought it would over whelm you if we forced that truth onto you."

       Harry sniffed and nodded in understanding, rocking back and forth as he sought to comfort himself. "He did it again, though, didn't he? I don't remember anything this time but when I got back I could feel it. I never told the Aurors this. I could feel that he'd been with me, in me, and that's the reason I got away. He was going to do it again. I was awake this time and he was going to... I couldn't... I couldn't... I didn't want it... I couldn't fight him so I ran... He's supposed to hate me!"

       "Shush, Harry, shush," the ancient wizard murmured, pitching his voice low so that it sounding like a soft litany as he surreptitiously cast a warming spell. This was not what he wanted to discuss, but for Harry to grow, to become what he needed, the boy would need to work through this. "We know Harry, we know, but when you did not say anything, we could not be sure and we did not want to force that on you. Everyone is here for you though Harry, everyone knows that it was not your fault."

       "But he's meant to hate me!"

       Dumbledore looked up at the paintings within his office. They were all looking on sympathetically but they bore slight looks of confusion. They knew what was happening but it appeared even they had no idea what had caused the change in Tom. "Sometimes," he began uncertainly. "Sometimes when you hate that badly you're not even sure any more and what seems to be hate can be viewed as love. Tom does not love you Harry, but because he hates you with a singular passion that defies all logic, he might in some way view you as his possession, someone only he can torture and since those Muggles tortured you in that way, he couldn't because you would associate that with them, not him. So he showed you the other way, thus he was gentle."

       Harry cried even harder, burying his face into Fawkes who trilled a soft note of comfort.

       "He does not love you and it does not make it right. I'm not asking you to forgive him but you must remember that Tom has become so twisted that even he doesn't know what he's doing. Harry, it was not about you. For him it was about power, about hate and how he could prove it. He hates you Harry. He hates you so much that he probably threatened to let you live forever so that he could do it to you again, and again."

       Messy black hair gave a short jerk of assent and the older wizard grimaced. Tom was so predictable at times. Ancient blue eyes met fiery red as Fawkes looked up at him. Even after all this Harry still loved someone, was still totally devoted to the light. It was a gift Dumbledore was thankful for.

       "That's why...," Harry sniffed, swallowing hard as he raised his head and wiped the tears from his eyes. "That's why I'll fight. I might not win, but by God, I'll take him with me."

       "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," the old wizard said sincerely. "Harry, do you wish to postpone our talk?"

       Harry blinked and then shook his head carefully. "We've already put it off too long. I've dealt with everything this long, but now I need to know what can be done."

       "We are always here for you Harry," the Headmaster said clearly.

       "I know, but there are some wounds that will only heal when he dies."

       "Then we will do everything in our power to see that that happens soon. If you need to stop, Harry, let me know and we will continue at another time."

       "It's okay," Harry murmured, his hands once again beginning to stroke the phoenix in his lap.

       The man just didn't understand. All this time he hadn't wanted support, he knew he had that already, he wanted action. That was all that would make things better... Why couldn't Dumbledore understand that?

       "First of all Harry, let me begin by telling you what will happen over this summer, baring other incidents." Dumbledore was careful to keep his voice soft and gentle as he spoke and if Harry had of looked at him he would have seen the glow of amusement returning to his eyes. "Firstly, after the other students have left for the summer you will have your OWLs and though you might complain that it is unfair, I expect you to fully utilise the information you have. Don't hold back Harry, just because you think you shouldn't know. We'll use your OWLs also as a test to see how much knowledge was transferred. You must never be afraid Harry. Of all the people I would trust with the Dark Lord's knowledge it is you. Remember, it is how you use what you know that determines whether it is good or bad.

       "After you've finished your OWLs, we'll be able to see how much training you need. While you may know these things, we will have to teach you how much you know." Dumbledore chuckled. "I don't seem to be making much sense," he said with a smile, encouraging Harry to at least look slightly amused. The boy complied with a wane smile and a nod to indicate his understanding.

       "I think we'll focus on Animagus training because it is an in depth transfiguration that requires knowledge of a wider range of magic. And, I'm sure your Godfather would approve. Truly remarkable was that feat, to become animagi by end of fifth year, but then those four always were gifted when they worked together." He allowed himself a soft smile in remembrance of the past.

       "After that Harry, once you are well versed in what could be called normal magic we must begin to teach you how to use your power."

       "My power?"

       "Yes, your power," the old wizard sighed. "I should have spoken to you about this earlier but with everything that has happened, there never seemed to be time, or an opportunity. You are the Heir to a very old bloodline Harry, and a very powerful bloodline.

       "What Tom told you in his letter was true, to a point, Harry. You are the Heir of Gryffindor, hence your ability to use his sword. But it is more than that.

       "There were four founders of Hogwarts. You've known this since first year, I know. They all possessed a unique power which elevated them above the other witches and wizards of their day and that wasn't just through their vision to create a school.

       "Tom describes Helga's power as one that is...

       "'To feel the earth and to know the truth'," Harry quoted the letter. "I remember, sir, I remember everything he wrote."

       "Good," Dumbledore said easily, careful to make sure that Harry knew he was pleased. "You know more about the Founders than most people do then.

       "Helga could speak with the earth, with the forest nymphs, trees and their dryads. She could tell when someone was telling the truth even better than veritaserum or any other spell or potion. It doesn't sound like such a dangerous power, does it?"

       Harry shook his head.

       "Tom always seemed to discount the two ladies but you must always remember that in combat, both Rowena and Helga could hold their own against Salazar and Godric. Helga's power was mostly benign until she got angry. Imagine being on a battlefield where nature itself attacks you? Tree roots and grass twine together to tangle your feet, branches whip around to strike you and the very soil itself is against you. Not to mention the fact that if she could see you, she practically knew what your battle plans were. 'Know the truth' is an encompassing statement. A number of enemies found out the hard way that you don't anger her.

       "Rowena could, as stated, control the spirits of the dead. Any sensitive can see a ghost, but Rowena could communicate even with the dead who had moved on. And for ghosts, she could grant them the ability to interact with the physical realm without becoming poltergeists. Her bird totem is actually modelled from her familiar, the spirit of a raven she'd kept as a girl."

       "I always find it amusing to think of her power and then to consider how she is seen. I'm sure most Ravenclaw's would be horrified to know of their House Founders ability."

       "Probably," the Headmaster laughed before he continued. "Salazar had the most well-known ability. Well, the basic ability was the most well-known but the true depth of his ability is not always appreciated. Salazar, like Tom was called the Serpent Lord because not only did he possess the gift of Parceltongue but his animagus form was that of a Basilisk and all serpents, regardless of species obeyed him.

       "And finally there is Godric's ability. The ability you have inherited. Of all of the Founders we know the least about his ability." Dumbledore looked into space as he recalled a study he had once done on the Founders. It had made Godric appear inferior in every way to the others, but he was still considered one of the most powerful wizards in history. "He never mastered his animagus form, he refused to use his ability in combat and if he was forced to, invariably it was a slaughter that he alone walked away from then he would then engage in a month of cleansing rituals.

       "It might seem surprising but the others backed his decision not to use his ability, and they did their utmost to ensure he didn't have to but there were times when it was unavoidable and it is from those times that the Gryffindor name gains its stature.

       "His power, Harry, was best described as Absolute Light. A light so strong that it burns away the dark. That's why Fawkes likes you so much, Harry, because by your very essence you are light.

       "In time, as your ability grows, you will notice... I think they would best be described as shadows, flickering around you. They will be attracted to your light, and in exchange for it you will be able to control them."

       "I think I've seen them already," he admitted. "Sometimes, just when the light's right I see a flickering, and during the match with Slytherin, there was something there. I didn't think much of it then, I just assumed it was a side effect of being asleep for so long, or something."

       The ancient wizard held back a grin, his eyes glittering with mirth. Harry was further along than he thought. "That's wonderful news, Harry, absolutely wonderful," he said encouragingly. There was one thing the histories were clear on, and that was the importance of ensuring that Harry didn't think anything was wrong with his ability. He could think it unique, he could think it powerful but he could not think that others would be scared and he could not be scared of it. "I don't really know how they will manifest themselves to you, but you must never be afraid Harry. They serve you. As the Serpents serve Tom, so will the shadows serve you and we will teach you control them.

       "After that Harry, summer will most likely be over and Tom will probably be vying for control. Any help you could provide would be gratefully accepted, especially since as a Dark Lord, he has already shown an ability to control the Shadows. When you come into your power, Tom's ability will be as nothing, and it may even be an ability he has derived via your bond as you are also gifted in parceltongue, so his ability is nothing to be feared as yours will eclipse his."

       Emerald eyes clouded briefly before Harry nodded. "I told you," he said softly. "I will be the weapon."

       "You will not have to fight alone, Harry. The Order will help you, with everything." Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, there is one thing I have to ask. Fawkes, when he inducted you into the Order, drove out the Dark Lord's spy but he sensed something else, not anything wrong, just something... unexpected. Could you tell me who it is?"

       Emerald eyes opened wide and Harry felt the stirrings of panic at the old wizards words. Did they know? Had they really figured it out? "What do you mean?" He asked.

       The Headmaster nodded carefully sensing the boys concern. "Harry, Fawkes asks everyone who is inducted into the Order the same questions, with some minor variations at times; 'Do you know anger? Do you know hate? Do you know pain? And do you know love?' You answered those before he even asked and we were expecting the answers for the first three. For the last though, we were expecting a slightly different answer. As I said, there is nothing wrong, it is just unexpected. We were expecting the love of a child to a parent, or that of a friend, we weren't expecting the love of an adult. So may I ask, who is it?"

       Fawkes sung softly, encouragingly as he moved his head to allow fire red eyes to look into emerald. $It's all right, little one. I told you, the Order has one rule and you have followed it. There is nothing wrong, we just want to protect them.$

       Harry nodded to cover the slight feeling of disgust he couldn't hide, even with his current mind set at the phoenix calling him the term the Dark Lord used. Only his beloved had the right to call him that. "I... it's..." He gulped, swallowing hard. Actually saying the words, saying the lie was harder than he thought. "It's Gin," he said, intimating a pet name, before he said the whole looking up at the ancient wizard. "Virginia."

       Dumbledore smiled, truly pleased. He had suspected that it was Miss Weasley but he had to be sure. The Weasley's, while sometimes mischievous had a long history of serving the Light and having seen all the current generation, he could see no reason for them to change. He had known Virginia loved Harry, so much so that she had bonded herself to him but it was good to see that her feelings were reciprocated. They would be good together. "She's still too young to be inducted into the Order, but I will see to it that she is protected. It will be subtle Harry, I promise you, Tom will not know."

       Harry nodded. "Thank you. I couldn't bear it if something happened to her. Sometimes... sometimes it hurts when I think about her."

       :You bet it hurts,: his true self whispered softly but held his tongue on all other matters.

       The Headmaster nodded as Fawkes trilled again. "By my word, Harry, nothing shall happen to Virginia Weasley, although," his voice reflected his mirth, blue eyes twinkling, "I must insist that the two of you hold off on the children until you are both graduated."

       Harry laughed. "She has six brothers, three of whom, at least for the next few weeks are in a position where they can get to me. Even next year there will be Ron, and even though the others won't be at Hogwarts, I'm fully aware of how patient they can be when waiting for their opportunity to strike. Our wands will be as one before I even touch her!"

       "They are a rather formidable lot, aren't they?" Dumbledore sighed, once more become serious. "Harry, for everything, I am sorry. If I had of known, if I even thought it possible, I would never..."

       "It's okay. You didn't know. Various people made sure you couldn't know and you thought it was for the best."

       "I should have known. I'm sorry."

       :Not as sorry enough! And not as sorry as you're going to be.:

       "It's okay. Well, it's not okay yet. But it will be."

       Fawkes sung softly as he brushed his head against Harry's cheek, rising and flying to his perch, a stream of sparks following him.

       "I think that means it's time for you to head back to your dormitory."

       "Ah, it is getting rather late."

       "One more thing, Harry. If you ever need to talk, my door is open, and if you ever need a place to go, again, you are more than welcome here. Poppy would also be more than happy to see you. Don't ever hesitate Harry, if you need anything, don't ever hesitate."

       Harry nodded as he walked towards the stair case before he paused and turned back. "Thank you," he said softly, both to Fawkes and the Headmaster. "For everything," he added as he started down the stairs.

       Dumbledore watched as he left. When he heard the gargoyle settle back in place he drew a deep breath, turning to face Fawkes. "Did you sense anything?"

       The phoenix shook his head.

       "Even with all that cuddling and you still got nothing?"

       $I got my feathers preened,$ Fawkes said. $He has very impressive shields. They have not been augmented by the Dark Lord, they are his own and are very powerful. I rather imagine Tom curses their strength. If he had not told us, we would not have known. I did not sense anything else although I suspect he is holding back on the shadows.$

       "You mean he already knows them?"

       $Yes. When the time comes for his training, I believe he will be the one teaching.$

       "Will you..." Dumbledore paused, unsure how to phrase what he knew would be a difficult question for the phoenix. "Will you call him Master?"

       Fiery red eyes became flat. $He has the light. He is like the other but I will not be betrayed again. I swore I would call no man Master after the last one, but I may yet call Harry partner.$

       Albus nodded. Given past history that was the best that could be hoped for. Centuries of independence was not something a phoenix gave up easily but for now they would take what they had and move to destroy the dark.

===

       Harry glided down the corridors, his feet silent on the stone. It was a useful trick he had picked up and one that allowed him to listen for ambushes. He wasn't expecting Draco to try anything, not with so many things left unknown but you could never be certain.

       :That was interesting. Would you like our views on the Founders?:

       :Yes.:

       :They never supported Godric, never understood him.

       :Rowena was a sanctimonious, stuck up bitch who thought that having an animagus form that was a shade was the epitome of power, until she discovered that Godric could control that form without breaking a sweat. She refused to help him after that.

       :Helga never understood that in the cycle of the earth destruction is a necessary tool to start anew. She focused on the death, not on the rebirth and so feared us even though we are not agents of destruction, and through that feared Godric.

       :Salazar... the closest thing Godric had to a friend but in the end it wasn't enough and so poisoned by the fear of those around him Godric feared us, and refused to let us help him. Only in times of extreme stress, on the battlefield where there was no other choice could we act, and so act we did, and that in turn fuelled the fear. They were afraid of us, so they were afraid of Godric and because he didn’t want that, he turned against us.

       :It didn't work, of course, humans are petty like that and it just caused more pain. In the end, to protect him, we left. That didn't work either...: The shadows said sadly, and Harry knew that for the moment they wouldn't elaborate.

       They were silent for a moment before they continued. :We are going to have to start jumping through hoops to show your control,: they grinned, all signs of sadness gone. :We will maintain that the Dark Lord can control us, hence our presence at the Atrium but we will also resist you so that they may see fully that you are obeying them by enforcing their orders on us.:

       Harry nodded. :Games within games.:

       :We are the game masters.:

       :Heh, true. Dumbledore said Godric never mastered his animagus form.:

       :Yes but that had nothing to do with us or mastery over us.:

       :Okay,: Harry said as he came to the Fat Lady's portrait. She wasn't around. He sighed as he flicked a bit of magic to open the porthole and climbed into the Gryffindor Common Room. As expected, it was empty. He'd stayed late talking with the Headmaster.

       :Could you break the bond with Ginny as she wanted?:

       :We can,: the shadows responded.

       :What's it going to cost?: Harry asked as he began climbing the stairs. They were playing and he could humour that for the moment.

       :We want Draco.:

       :Why?:

       :To show the world what happens to those who hurt our Master.:

       :All right,: Harry agreed. :I wasn't really sure what to do with him anyway.:

       :One more thing, Master.:

       :Hmm?:

       :While it is still some time away, do not waste your birthday celebration.:

       Emerald eyes opened wide as he discerned meaning before a sly smile crossed his face. :No fear of that happening.:

       :Then we will take care of everything,: the Shadows laughed as they faded, leaving him to sleep.

 

 


	5. Interviews

Weapon  
Chapter 5 Interviews

===

       **H** arry suppressed a yawn as he walked into the Common Room. The shadows had roused him early today and he was slightly curious as to why, but not so curious that he wanted to wake everyone in the dormitory.

       :It's the first OWL today,: they murmured to him as he sat in one of the chairs.

       :Oh?:

       :And Blaise and Millicent's gifts will arrive.:

       :Heh!: He was careful to keep the amusement from the portion of Fawkes he could feel. :I'm looking forward to it.:

       :We have also removed the bond with Virginia Weasley, as ordered.:

       :So you have,: Harry said as he felt the place she had been in his mind. There was still a slight link but the blue power was absent... Or rather, the connection to her was now in his favour. He could feel her, she could not feel him, and he could draw from her energy if that's what it took. He shrugged. For now, it would be enough and he would tell her what Fawkes and Dumbledore believed soon and then that game would be fully in motion.

       He undid a few buttons on his shirt, keeping an ear out for the other students as he looked down at the now revealed phoenix tattoo. It was still a charcoal colour, the bird beautifully defined. :Can you get rid of this?: He asked.

       :No.:

       For a brief moment Harry felt nothing but rage and as he was gathering his power to lash the shadows : if they couldn't get rid of it, why had they allowed him to go through with it, without even warning him? : they spoke again.

       :You can get rid of it yourself.:

       :What?: Harry held back his strike.

       :When Fawkes is destroyed, the Order as held together by him will cease to be. There will be a new phoenix, never doubt, but they will have to make their own Order, if they can.:

       :So it will fade then?:

       :Yes. Fawkes' Order of the Phoenix will be destroyed and we will finally have justice for one thousand years of pain.:

       :Justice?: Harry raised one eye brow, questioning, but the shadows were silent. He smiled slightly. It was okay. Something had happened one thousand years ago, something they still remembered. Even if they didn't tell him, it would eventually reveal itself to him. It just added to the interest. :How do I kill a phoenix?:

       :You can't. They just burst into fire and are reborn. Even if you then kill the fledgling, it just happens again.:

       :How do you _destroy_ a phoenix then?: Harry reworded his question, remembering what the shadows had said. They could be so finicky sometimes! Destroy, kill : was there really a difference?

       :There is a very large difference. You corrupt the light, turn it to dark, and then we will adsorb the being known as Fawkes into us. It is only then that the physical body of a phoenix will die.:

       :He will become a shadow?:

       :Yes,: the echoing whispered voice that Harry heard changed as it seemed to become a single voice rather than the whole.

       :Master, when I was alive, my name was Kali. I was the phoenix who communed with Merlin. My Light was corrupted by a being summoned by Morgiana, and thus I am eternally now a shadow, your servant.:

       :How?: Harry asked again. :You have told me that Light and Dark must both exist because without Light there is no Dark and without Dark there is no Light. So how can one become so fully the other?:

       :Light and Dark aren't that different from each other Master,: the echoing voice of the whole returned. :In our case we could become Light, if we consumed your whole. Of course we don't want to, so we won't but there is a balance Master. We, Dark can become Light, and creatures such as Fawkes, who are Light, can become Dark.:

       :I know about the balance,: Harry said, :but how do you corrupt Light? Kali said it was a creature summoned by Morgiana. What creature was it?:

       :There are two things that can corrupt Light, Master. The individual, and a being of the type who corrupted Kali. For the individual, species does not matter, human, phoenix, basilisk, dementor, animal, _anything_ is both Light and Dark, and anything can chose to forsake either side. This is what happens when we seduce something, we encourage them to forsake the Light, only after they have forsaken it may we consume it, unless of course we have your permission. The Dark Lord Voldemort, for example Master, has forsaken the parts of himself that are Light. Humans don't need as much as they have really, if they are prepared to be ruthless. Not many are though. He admits the necessity of Light, but he also recognises that he only needs a very limited amount of Light. In this case, that Light is you Master. You are actually a unique individual Master. You cannot forsake your Light, because we have taken your darkness.: They seemed to grin before they continued. :The alternative, Master, is for an external force to corrupt the Light within someone but that can only be done by something that understands both Light and Dark, and who could be the two extremes.:

       :What is it?: Harry snapped.

       :There is a level of magic above that which you know Master. Spiritual magic and energies. Wizards don't use these. In fact it's been theorised that what you call magic is simply an overflow, the excess as it were from this spiritual magic...:

       :What is it?:

       :A tenshi, Master, a being of pure spiritual energy,: the shadows said.

       :Where am I meant to find any spiritual being, let alone a tenshi to corrupt Fawkes?: Harry growled, as he pulled his shirt closed, buttoning it back up. He couldn't afford to have the other students know, not yet.

       :With the battles that will be fought, we rather imagine some will be attracted since they find the atmosphere of fear to be quite pleasurable.:

       :So I just walk up to one and ask?: He asked sarcastically. :Even with the last war, there was no mention of _anything_ on the battle fields.:

       :They aren't interested in you humans until you become spiritual energy, that's why not even you wizards see them. We will ask if we sense one though, failing that, Kali does know the spell to summon one and you can... or rather, the Dark Lord can perform it for us.:

       :Why can't I perform it?:

       :Because you'd automatically kill the tenshi you summoned, Master. You are going to need a dark tenshi master and all that Light we find so delicious is very poisonous to those creatures of Dark, and a dark tenshi, while also a spiritual being, is Dark. They aren't completely and only dark like us, but they are dark enough and your spiritual energy is powerful enough now, that they would be affected by your light.:

       :Couldn't the dark tenshi just corrupt it?:

       :In your case, no. Master, you are unique. You are a being who can exist solely as Light, while we exist solely as Dark. But Master, as you well know, Light is not a definition of good, and Dark is not a definition of evil. They are something else.:

       Harry nodded. He knew he was one half of the shadows. They were Darkness. He was Light. One single individual to serve as the Light for all of them, to keep the balance. That's why he was Master. He was the Head of their collective, the only individual the whole could not sacrifice. :You don't seem to dislike them the way you do other dark creatures,: Harry said, knowing they would understand the question.

       :Not all dark creatures have forgotten that we are the masters, and while it is true the dark tenshi have not forgotten, as spiritual beings they are also not subject to our rules, not completely anyway. We are very generous to those who haven't forgotten but they don't need our generosity.:

       :I understand the balance, but is there anyone or anything balanced within themselves? Equally Light and Dark?:

       :There is one. We aren't sure what species they are. We weren't paying attention when he was created so we don't know if he was always balanced or if he forsook either Light or Dark until balance was created. He has been alive for centuries.:

       :Powerful?:

       :And how.:

       :Vampire?:

       :No. But they are also not any of the other eternal creatures. We don't know what they are, and we have been trying to find out for a while. He can see us. We suspect he could speak with us but he has refrained since he knows we are yours... well, he knows we are someone's. Do not concern yourself Master, he is, and has been for the last several centuries, studiedly neutral and he will remain that way. And before you argue that either side could force him, neither will do so, because they both need him too much.:

       :Keep watch please, though. I don't really want to find out the hard way that he has picked the wrong side.:

       :We will, Master, we will. We have our own interest in him.:

       :All right,: he sighed. :We'll find a way, somehow, for everything,: he added. :Now, you've been putting this off for too long, since Blaise and Millicent are about to get a surprise today, show me Draco's response to seeing me.:

       :Heh! You're going to talk with him today, aren't you?:

       He nodded. :Whatever delusion he's spun for himself, don't you think I should give him to opportunity to test it? Unless... you want me to stay away from him?: Harry recalled that he had given Draco to them.

       :No, no, no,: they said quickly. :We're going to torture him slowly. A whisper here, a nudge there... It should be amusing to see what he will plan. Then... well, we will see how well he has entertained us before we decide how to finish him.:

       :Mercy?:

       :No, more customisation. We don't want to decide on a course of action when a different one would prove more entertaining.:

       :Ah,: Harry nodded. :Now show me.:

       :Close your eyes.:

       Harry complied and suddenly he wasn't sitting in the Common Room but he was once again in the Great Hall, sitting at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by the Weasley's chatting amicably. He looked around as Ron and Hermione kept talking, not noticing his in attention.

       Dumbledore was watching on with an indulgent smile. Snape looked somewhat surprised. For a spy, if you knew what to look for the Potions Master was amazingly easy to read. But then, Harry mused, not many people knew what to look for. The other Professors just seemed relieved. Most of the other students were ignoring him except for...

       :Patius Gibels,: the shadows identified the Ravenclaw fourth year who was glaring at him.

       :Death Eater?:

       :Parents are.:

       :Lucius' or Voldemort's?:

       :The Dark Lord's.:

       Harry smiled. :I gather he hasn't told everyone about the change of attitude towards me?:

       :You gather correctly.:

       :I will be careful then.:

       :Gibels will wear the Dark Mark before the summer is over.:

       Harry nodded as he continued to look around. There were a few more students who were watching him. They were just hiding it better than Gibels. Obviously most of the Slytherins were but he was surprised by some of the others. There was more interest from the Hufflepuffs than he had been expecting and he mentally noted a few of them who could be pursued later. No one ever suspected the Hufflepuffs... If they ever learnt to use that advantage... well... It would be an interesting battle.

       There were two Aurors at the door who were glancing towards him now and then but as he continued to talk with the Weasleys, they seemed to relax. Their ease was a ruse. It was reassuring. He would have been disappointed if he could deceive combat Auror's so quickly.

       Finally he turned towards the door, where a flicker of movement told him that Draco was about to appear. The blond Slytherin was surrounded by several toadies, Crabbe, Goyle and a few others of little importance. He seemed puffed up, confident and, Harry looked closer, he was slightly amused at something. Draco paused at the entrance, looking around the Great Hall, and Harry could see the exact instant that the blond saw _him_.

       It had been gradual up until that point. The blond had noticed that the Gryffindor table was not depressed and that the other students were talking happily. He'd seen that the teachers seemed relieved and that had caused him some worry, a slight fading in the arrogant confidence but then when he'd seen one black head surrounded by red and one brown, he'd known.

       The arrogance seemed to drain out of him and his face became slack. He stopped talking mid-sentence, his lackeys giving him an odd look before they too saw the truth. Grey eyes opened wide and there was a quick intake of breath, the blond hyperventilating as his mind tried to deny everything. His small hands were clenched into fists that trembled slightly.

       Harry laughed. Oh, yes, it was amusing to see someone's beliefs so totally destroyed.

       Then between one breath and the next, Draco straightened, blinking carefully as he tried to assume a more normal expression but Harry could see the strain in the Slytherin. Whatever he had thought, the belief that he knew he had killed Potter was gone and beneath the practiced gaze of arrogance Harry could see the doubt. If something he knew he'd done could be undone so easily, what else did he not know? What else had changed?

       After a long moment, Draco began moving towards his table, his strut showing only his usual arrogance, his lackeys trailing after him, slack jawed and disbelieving as they cast almost continual glances in the direction of the Gryffindor table.

       Ah, that was funny. Not as dramatic as he'd thought it would be but then in public, where his image and reputation depended on it, Draco could think quickly. He wondered what story the Slytherin had concocted for himself.

       :We're not telling,: the shadows said smugly as the image faded.

       :Why not?:

       :Because that would be telling. You'll find out soon enough.:

       :I guess I will.:

       :Get to breakfast, Master, you don't want to miss the other surprise.:

       Harry snickered mentally and stretched, opening his eyes slowly, blinking in the sudden light as he made it seem he'd been asleep for a little while. Ron and Hermione were both watching him, sorta... They were also reading their notes as fast as they could.

       "'morning!" He said easily.

       "Good morning Harry," Hermione returned the greeting. "Please tell me you didn't sleep there?" she asked, barely looking up from her notes.

       "Nah, I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep! I didn't seem to have that problem here."

       "Why didn't you wake me?" Ron moaned.

       "Because before this OWL you need two things Ron, lots of sleep and a good breakfast," Harry said. "So, shall we go and attend to the second one?"

       "We should," Hermione answered for them both, snapping Ron's book closed as they rose.

       "I still say you have all the luck," Ron muttered as he followed the others out of the common room.

       "I've got to do them soon," Harry countered with a smile, closing the portrait behind them.

       Breakfast was going to be interesting.

===

       **B** reakfast was abnormally quiet. The presence of the OWL examiners sitting at the high table, squished in between the teachers, meant that many students seemed to have foregone their meal completely, and those that were there were affected by the serious air exuded by the fifth years. The seventh years weren't much better, although their NEWTs would be on in a week or so. There was only a quiet buzz accompanied by the rustle of parchment as it was turned with feverous haste during the last second cram session.

       You could feel the nervous tension in the air. Harry grinned, helping himself to eggs and bacon as Ron and Hermione barely pecked at their toast. Ginny was at the table as well and he nodded at her, suppressing a surge of pleasure as she nodded back before looking down, blushing. She was acting perfectly, and she didn't even know it.

       There was a high pitched squeal as two birds flew in through one of the open shutters near the roof. They were eagle hawkes, black sleek and large, each carrying a square box that seemed as large as them. Both packages were wrapped in black and tied with a ribbon. There was a small folded parchment attached to each.

       They circled for a few moments, as most of the students turned their attention upwards, searching for their targets before they swooped in a blaze of feathers and flapping wings, touching down smoothly and landing on top of their packages in front of Millicent and Blaise. Both students looked confused as they were regarded by black hawk eyes and wicked hunting beaks, but both were from magical families and had been around birds since birth. They automatically reached out to undo the ties from the bird's legs, pulling their hands back quickly as both birds rose into the air, sharp pinions extended beneath themselves, as they flapped their wings powerfully, circling again to gain speed before they angled themselves towards the shutter and disappeared.

       Millicent cried out happily as she read the note before she laughed and began to undo the wrapping.

       :Those notes are from their parents,: the shadows whispered to Harry before he could ask. :We didn't want anyone interfering.:

       Harry nodded slightly, keeping the shade of himself that contained Fawkes' essence locked within the duality he had created. His godfather had shown him how to hide his true self there, but you could reverse it and hide the shade, keeping it trapped within an illusion. It wasn't perfect, and he couldn't do it for long periods of time since Fawkes would eventually notice it, but for those events that he wanted to see and feel first hand, the prison of self was perfectly adequate.

       The laugh turned into a scream, echoed by Blaise's cry of revulsion as the boxes corners flipped up and out to reveal their contents. Other curious Slytherin students peaked into the boxes and the scream was soon a chorus as they pulled back, several loosing their breakfast to give the hall a bitter smell.

       The commotion quickly spread outwards but both Blaise and Millicent were frozen, their eyes wide as they continued to stare into the boxes. Of course, such commotion attracted attention, and Dumbledore, Snape and Minerva were soon pushing their way through the students to discover what was wrong.

       Snape at least acted quickly when he saw what was wrong, flicking the boxes closed and shaking both students out of the trance that had held them, but then he had known exactly who the bloody heads, with expressions frozen in terror had belonged to. He looked up and for an instant black eyes met emerald and Harry gave a small regal nod to indicate that he knew before he reversed his mind set, letting his innocent shade out to attest to his innocence. Let Severus wonder.

       "I think we will need some pep'up potion" Dumbledore was saying.

       "With all due respect, Headmaster, I think we'll need something stronger than that," Snape objected.

       "Certainly," Albus said, his eyes both sympathetic and hard. "But not just yet. We need to know what happened. For the moment though," he raised his voice, addressing the Hall, "I believe those students who have classes should attend them, while those who have study time should go to the Library or their Common Rooms as it pleases them. And the fifth years should gather in the antechamber while the Hall is set up for their OWL."

       "Surely not!" Minerva objected.

       "I'm afraid so, my dear," Dumbledore said evenly. "It's for the best. Both Miss Bulstrode and Mr Zabini though will be excused to take this OWL at a later date. The others though..." he looked around, deliberately smiling in a grandfatherly manner, "Chop, chop! You can't hang around here all day!"

       There was a reluctant grumble as the students were herded from the Hall. Out of morbid curiosity most had wanted to see what had caused the commotion although there was whispering within the students and the news spread like wildfire.

       Harry got up with the others and looked at both Ron and Hermione. They were both pale, not understanding the true story behind this, they did not know how it could not be them and were no doubt thinking about how they could be attacked through him. If the Dark Lord was striking his allies, how much more brutal would he be to his enemies, and everyone knew Harry was his number one enemy and if he couldn't get to Harry, the Serpent Lord would not doubt settle for them. :Make sure they are calm for their OWLs, will you?: Harry instructed.

       :Do it yourself.:

       :I can't. Any charm I cast on them will be removed as they walk into the room by the anti-cheating charms.:

       :All right.: the shadows grumbled.

       :You said I will need followers, so I still need them.:

       :We know, we know, we aren't upset with you Master. We were just hoping that Dumbledore would make those two sit through their OWL's.:

       :No such luck,: Harry lamented with them, casting one eye back to where Snape was rather awkwardly trying to comfort Blaise. It was almost hysterical. He turned back towards Ron and Hermione. "Hey, guys, relax! You'll do fine," he said with a smile.

       "Thanks Harry," Hermione said, and he could see that she was struggling not to speak further as she tried to concentrate on matters at hand.

       "Hey, mate..." Ron said softly, uncertainly. He was trying to pay attention but it was obvious that he was thinking about what had just happened. They didn't know exactly what had been in the boxes, although rumours were already rife, but they knew enough to know that somehow the Dark Lord had been involved and that now both Slytherins were orphans.

       "It will be okay, Ron," Harry said reassuringly. "You'll see. Your parents are careful, he won't get them."

       Ron nodded, his eyes still worried.

       "Just concentrate on today," Harry murmured to him. "It will be okay, I promise."

       "Thanks," Ron smiled wanly.

       "Hey! I know about these things!" Harry laughed, although it was a little forced in an effort to make everything seem okay and he placed his hand comfortingly on both their shoulders as he turned to leave. "Good luck!" He said as he walked out, heading towards the common room as the shadows slipped around his friends, warm and comforting.

===

       _'Touch what is precious to me, and I will take what is precious to you. Your days are numbered.'_

       That's what both notes within the parcels had said when addressed to the two children. Albus looked down at the new parchments. The two notes that had accompanied the grisly remains had morphed themselves into letters for him once he had touched them, much like Harry's had. Like that letter this one was written in tiny spidery script but unlike it this one seemed happy, the brooding anger was absent.

       It was the happiness that bothered him the most even though he knew the Dark Lord had reason for it at the moment.

       _Dumbledore,_

_You are good at reading other people's mail, aren't you? So be it. As I'm sure you have surmised, these are the two who dared to touch what is mine. I know you know what happened, I also know he has not revealed that information to you for fear I would attack them. He is far too protective of others for his own good. I did not take this information from him either, he kept that hidden within himself, which was most frustrating._

_These two were involved with Lucius' Rebellion. Malfoy Senior is still alive, in case you are worried. He probably will be alive for quite some time yet. How much he appreciates that life though is another question that has little bearing on this._

_In an attempt to buy their lives they revealed their brats' actions to me, thinking it would please me. A mistake, I assure you, I gave them plenty of time to reflect upon. I'm sure their brats are only beginning to see the magnitude of their actions. They will understand fully before I'm through with them._

_Do your job Old Man, and keep what is mine safe by training him to use the knowledge I have given him. If you train him well enough, I might find it within myself to finish you quickly. I doubt it though, since you have caused me far to much pain for me show you that much mercy. Hmm, I wonder if my treasure is loyal enough to beg me to show you mercy? I think I would enjoy that._

_You will see the other Death Eaters who betrayed me from time to time. I'm finding that they have all sorts of uses and it is so much easier to recruit allies when you have a ready supply of sacrifices to give to them._

_I wish you luck with the Ministry, Old Man. You are going to need it and I will find it much more pleasurable if there is some challenge in the battle. You and I both know how close it was, and while such ease is pleasurable; I always did like a challenge more._

_Don't let that distract you, Old Man. You have one task before you die and one task only. Keep what is mine safe. I wish to partake of his sweetness again and will enjoy his cries when he knows this time, that there is truly no hope._

_LV_

       Oh yes, Tom was unaccountably happy, although Dumbledore was almost certain that nothing serious had occurred. Both Miss Bulstrode and Mr Zabini were in the infirmary, being attended to by Poppy and he had placed charms on them to alert him should they try to run. From the sounds of things, they weren't as innocent as they appeared although he couldn't really take a Dark Lord's letter as proof. Maybe now though, Harry would feel comfortable talking about it... If last night was any indication... He might be ready.

       If those two had truly raped Harry, then they were unquestionably the one's responsible for the death of Mundungus and indirectly for the Minister. For if they had not hurt Harry, then the Dark Lord would have felt no need to come to see him. He couldn't hold them responsible for those deaths though they might have raped Harry, which had brought Tom to Hogwarts, but it had been the Dark Lord's choice to kill, but he could see to it that they were charged with the sexual abuse and attack of a fellow student and that they were expelled from Hogwarts.

       After that, he was honest enough to admit that he didn't really care what happened to them. No doubt Tom would send some loyal Death Eaters after them but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care. Those two were responsible for the near destruction of the only weapon they had to fight the Dark Lord. They did not deserve the mercy of the Light.

       Maybe he could...

       No.

       If he stepped over that line then there would be no difference between him and Tom. He may not feel the need to protect them, but he was not going to give them up on a platter to the Dark Lord, no matter how much that might forward Severus' position.

       He sighed. He really did need to speak with the Slytherin House Head.

       Later, Albus decided. Later.

       For now, he would attend with the situations as they arose. There was nothing more he could do.

===

       Harry settled himself into the alcove. It was on a corridor that was out of the way. The arching windows up high let in air and light giving the whole corridor a light feel. It was wonderfully airy, warm but still cool in summer. It felt like it was outside, even though it was protected from the elements. Not many students ever came here. Draco did though, when he wanted to be alone.

       He figured that the Slytherin would want to be alone, at least for a little while after his OWL, especially with what had happened this morning. Of course, Harry wasn't going to let him be alone. They had issues which they needed to discuss.

       He smiled as he heard footsteps and heard the blond muttering softly to himself. It was amusing. "Stupid Potter, stupid Dumbledore! What are they planning... Stupid OWLs, damn stupid girl squealing! I swear I can still hear it... But what is Father doing?"

       "He's dying," Harry said as he stepped forward, into Draco's pacing line.

       The blond pulled up sharply, his eyes wide.

       "Of course, he's doing a bad job of it," Harry continued. "And it will probably take him all year to die but your father is in no position to do anything at the moment."

       "You're lying!" Draco hissed.

       "Am I?" Emerald eyes narrowed. "Your precious family _Noitaniur_ Charm didn't even scratch the Dark Lord. I was there, you know."

       "You are dead! You aren't Harry! You don't even look like him!" Draco objected, still hissing in an effort to keep his voice down.

       "Ah," Harry smiled. " _Silencias_ ," he cast the charm. "Is that better?" He asked. "Now we can talk privately."

       "I have nothing to say to you."

       "Really? Well, I have plenty of things to say to you."

       "Why should I listen to someone who's just a pawn in Dumbledore's game?"

       "I never thought you were this stupid Draco!"

       "I killed you!"

       "I know."

       Draco froze, grey eyes opened wide.

       "You killed me, Draco, never doubt that because it is true. I jumped in front of the curse to save my Godfather. _But,_ " Harry said the word forcefully, "the Dark Lord used the same curse on me when I was a child and it didn't work. What arrogance do you possess that you would think yours would be more effective?"

       He paused but there was no answer forthcoming from the blond. "I did not die, Draco and the reason no one is after you for attempted murder is that I spent a lot of energy casting obliviate charms. I find it amusing to think that you thought an illusion of yourself sitting in your common room would hold up against a body, if you truly had killed me. I thought you planned better than that."

       "Why?" Draco ground the word out, swallowing as he glared at the black haired boy. He made no move towards his wand as emerald eyes had never left him and he could see the tip of Harry's protruding slightly past his hand.

       "Because being dead would be too difficult, but being kidnapped suited me. You are one of the few who truly remembers what happened and you are the only one with access to some other information I'm sure your Father told you. Think about it. Read between the lines as it were."

       Harry watched as Draco's face contorted with thought. He could see the wheels turning behind those grey eyes as the boy tried to pull all the information he possessed into a whole understanding. He saw the exact moment the truth dawned upon the blond and snorted as the expression changed from thought to nothing as shock coursed through his system.

       "That's..." Draco whispered brokenly. "That's not possible."

       "Your Father said the exact same thing."

       "So why are you here?"

       "Because this is the quickest way to win."

       "I won't... I won't help you."

       "I don't want you to."

       "So why are you telling me this?"

       "You are the last of your Father's rebellion, Draco. Those followers you have will be going back to empty houses over the summer. Some few may yet be able to join the Dark Lord but by their parents actions I doubt it. Blaise and Millicent a prime examples."

       "Why are you telling me this?" Draco asked again.

       "Every battle needs someone who knew the truth."

       "No," grey eyes became hard. "I will not play your game."

       "Game?"

       "I will not run to Dumbledore."

       Harry laughed, trusting the shadows to tell him if Draco moved. "Oh god! That's funny!" He finally choked out, breathing hard. With a practiced move he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the tattoo of the phoenix. "I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Draco. Dumbledore will not believe you."

       Draco gasped, the air whistling through his teeth as he saw the almost living tattoo. "Why are you telling me?" He asked, his voice soft with anticipation. He knew, somehow that he didn't really want to know the answer.

       "Because," Harry said evenly, as he re-buttoned his shirt, drawing his robes around himself securely. "As pathetic as your attempts may be, I do expect you to fight. Unless of course you'd like to give up now and let me attend to it?"

       Draco took a step back, shaking his head.

       "You chose to enter this battle without knowing the truth Draco, now you must face the consequences. You are nothing more than a worm, wriggling on a hook but don't disappoint me, Draco," Harry smiled as he withdrew the silencing charm, looking over at the still shell-shocked blond.

       "Have a nice summer," he added as he began to walk down the corridor.

       "Potter!" Draco whispered but Harry heard.

       "Hm?"

       "This is not over yet," the grey eyed boy snarled. "This is _not over yet._ "

       "I would be disappointed if it was," Harry returned evenly. "Oh... one last thing Draco."

       "What?"

       " _Solmemorate!_ " He grinned as he cast the charm. "I don't mind that you remember what you've learned, but I really don't want you spreading it around. It would get too messy, you understand, and it really would be too easy for you!"

===

       Voldemort looked at the map. It showed a small Ministry building, one that was placed in the centre of Muggle buildings. In the greater scheme of things, it was worth _nothing._ It had no tactical importance, could not be used as a breach head and contained no documents or people of any import. Well, not to the Ministry... although they didn't know it yet.

       But he was going to attack it. And he was going to level it completely.

       Because doing so would give his forces confidence and doing so would show that he was still a force to be reckoned with.

       It would also allow him to gauge the speed and strength of the Ministry's response to attacks, now that they had supposedly improved security. And it would allow him to illustrate the potential for a new world order via the reporter from that insipid paper.

       Two red masked Death Eaters apparated into the room, the unconscious form of the afore mentioned reporter slung between them.

       "Good timing," Voldemort purred. "Put him in the chair and then go."

       They nodded, dragging Mr Bryant to the overstuffed arm chair in the corner and then with bows towards their Lord they apparated again, leaving the two of them alone.

       The Dark Lord looked around once more, making sure everything was perfect before he smiled, taking his own seat, flicking an _Enverneate_ charm towards Elliot.

       It was time for Mr Bryant to start earning his keep.

===

       **E** lliot groaned and looked around as he came to. The last thing he remembered was saying good bye to the Head Editor and skipping out the door in anticipation of a fine meal curtesy of Madam Rosetta at the Hogs Head before he went to see Dumbledore about the next phase of advertising for the Order. It had been going well. He'd managed to get a laudatory comment about the Order into just about every major article he'd written and with just a little more pushing the Ministry would have be forced by general public support to ask the Order for help.

       He'd been heading towards 'The Burly Gryphon' to flu over to Hogsmead since he didn't feel like apparating but he hadn't gotten very far before something had stuck him from behind and he'd pitched forward, reaching for his wand but finding himself unable to move. Then everything had gone black until now.

       Where ever he was, it was high class he decided. The walls were a rich brown, mahogany perhaps, or maybe stained turpentine and the panels were fitted together smoothly and carved with what he recognised to be expert workmanship. The chair he was sitting in, unrestrained, he realised with a small jolt of relief was soft, but still supporting and it seemed to radiate warmth. There were several shelves and they were occupied by leather bound books or by a few wizarding curios. A coat of arms, bearing the Slytherin crest was on the wall above the mantle, two well-oiled and very sharp looking swords were crossed behind it. A cheery fire burnt there and a small stack of wood was beside the hearth next to the ivory handled fire set.

       There was a table in the centre of the room, with a illusionary map on it. He didn't recognise the depiction but one of the buildings was burning and with a start, Elliot drew back from the tiny Deaths Head with Serpent Tongue hovering over it.

       "It hasn't happened yet." A rich smooth voice came from the side.

       Bryant froze. He didn't recognise the voice but he rather thought he knew who it was. With a suppressed shudder he turned slowly to look at the other being who was sitting calm and relaxed in the other chair.

       "Welcome," the Dark Lord said with a ghastly smile, "to my home."

       "No." The word was instinctive and he felt his bladder loosen in fear. He remained controlled though.

       "Ah," Voldemort seemed to laugh. "One that does not scream but who denies," he said lightly. "I assure you Mr Bryant, this is my home, or part thereof."

       Elliot gulped and tried to force his pounding heart to go at a more normal rate as he tried to consider the situation logically. He'd been on his way to see Dumbledore and now he was in front of the Dark Lord, unrestrained, in what he was claiming to be his home...

       Right, that was logical.

       "I assure you, Mr Bryant that if I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have woken up and if I wanted you tortured, you would have awoken in more suitable surroundings. I simply wish to speak with you, Mr Bryant. Nothing more. After that, I'm afraid, I will have to knock you out again, but you will wake up this time... I think at The Leaky Cauldron."

       The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just wanted to talk.

       Adrenaline pounded through his system.

       That was even more logical.

       Not.

       "Why?" His reporter instincts kicked in.

       "Don't you think the wizarding world deserves to hear my side of the story?" The Dark Lord returned.

       "Your side of the story? What is there to tell?" Elliot scoffed.

       "A great deal more than you think. And I will tell you, unless of course you'd prefer I tell some other reporter..? Perhaps someone from _The Enquirer_ would be better suited for this."

       "No! No," Elliot gulped again, surprised at his own audacity in arguing with the Dark Lord. "I will listen," he added.

       "Good, although Mr Bryant, this is a one-time opportunity for you, feel free to ask questions. I do not promise to answer them all, but I do give you my word that I will not kill you for the asking. Ask anything Mr Bryant, ask even those that can't be reported but that the Order will want to know." Voldemort smiled as Elliot's eyes opened wide.

       "How do you know?" He whispered.

       He laughed, the sound rich and strong. "It is my job to know," he paused. "Now, do you need a recording device?" He offered.

       "No," Elliot shook his head as he began patting down his pockets. His wand would be here somewhere.

       "On the table to your left," the Dark Lord instructed coldly and he looked over to see the Dark Lord's wand levelled at him. "Precautions, you understand."

       Elliot nodded and very slowly reached over to place one finger on his wand. He stuttered the charm a few times but eventually managed to get the word out. His wand glowed as the charm activated and he equally carefully pulled back his hand. The Dark Lord only lowered his wand once he was settled again although he could see the tip of it under white hands and couldn't hold back a shudder.

       "All right," Elliot said softly, trying to get his mind into working order as he tried both to not think about the situation and to think about those questions that would reveal the most information, both for the paper and the Order because he knew he did not have unlimited time. "I'll start with the easy things," he said, falling into at least the initial routine of an interview, "just for the record and then we'll move on."

       "Certainly."

       "Who are you?"

       "I am Lord Voldemort."

       "What do you want?"

       "I want to rule wizarding society."

       "And the Muggles?"

       "Wizarding society first, then we can move towards taking our rightful place as the rulers of the Muggles. Even I know that a fractured wizarding society could not dominate the Muggles."

       "So what are your thoughts on the Wizarding Edicts that call for secrecy?"

       "Archaic pieces of legislation that might have been necessary at the time they were made but are now enforced from habit by weak minded and pathetic individuals who fail to see the whole."

       "Why do you want this?"

       "Because when I was a child, I learnt the truth of the world. This is the only truth of the world and it applies to both humans and animals. Those who are strong rule. It is that simple. Those who are strong, physically, intellectually, magically, it does not matter how, dominate over those who are weak.

       "Those wizards and witches among us who are strongest should rule, and in turn, they should lead our society, which is stronger into domination over the weaker Muggles. There is no need to cower in fear from those who are inferior, but that is what we are doing. And in our secrecy were are giving them power over us.

       "I want us to once more take our rightful place."

       "What of those you call Mudbloods?"

       The Dark Lord smiled. "They are magical," he said smoothly. "They might be born of Muggles but they are magical beings and thus according to their power levels, they deserve to be trained and treated no differently from any other magical being.

       "Make no mistake. It is all about strength. Old wizarding lines that lack strength should not be revered simply because they are old but should be replaced by fresh new blood that has power."

       "So why didn't you join the Ministry and work for change from within?" Elliot asked.

       Ruby eyes flashed. "Because I learnt in school that the current administration is not interested in justice or truth. They are interested in what they perceive to be the truth and they are locked into that view."

       "You were disappointed in them?" Elliot continued carefully, testing the waters as he tried to determine what the Dark Lord meant. There was more with his previous sentence than what he said. He could feel it.

       "I was betrayed," the answer came back flatly, "by one who had no right to doubt me."

       "Forgive me, but most wizards would doubt your word."

       The Dark Lord hissed, turning sharply towards the fire. "This was at a time when I was still a child," he said forcefully. "He had no right to doubt me, and had the responsibility to attend to my welfare."

       "What happened?"

       "That, I will not answer."

       Elliot nodded and did not push the issue. "Who betrayed you?"

       "The one you see as your saviour, Albus Dumbledore. Even when I was a child, he considered me evil. A fine consideration for one who's neglect forced me to this path."

       "Albus Dumbledore? The current Headmaster of Hogwarts?"

       "Yes."

       "What did he do?"

       "He did not believe me. At a time when I was a child, when I was weak, he did not believe me."

       "So your entire battle is with Albus Dumbledore?"

       "If that was the case I would have killed the old fool and be done with it. No, he is but a symptom of the system, a symptom that claimed to know better but when the time came could not see past his preconceived ideas."

       "But according to your beliefs that the strong rule the weak, why should Albus Dumbledore, at a time, when you have just admitted that you were weak, listen and support your cause?" Elliot was surprised at his own question and forced himself not to tremble as he imagined the searing pain of the Cruciatus Curse upon him.

       "A logical question," Voldemort seemed to smile, amused. "While it is true that the strong should rule, it is equally true that they have some responsibility to those beneath them. Children especially are vulnerable and that is what some strength should be spent on, protecting those who are not yet old enough to protect themselves.

       "You might find it strange that I do believe that children should have a childhood. They should not be spoilt but there should be time when they are allowed to play, grow and develop as they will. Until they come of age and come into their full power, they should be awarded certain protections. They can forfeit said protection. Children are not sacrosanct but there is some small protection owed to the young even by those who are strong. This is the protection given to a child by a parent. Of course those children who are orphaned have to develop their own protections faster.

       "There are some crimes even I find abhorrent and the perpetrators should be punished with all possible force. It is these crimes that all children should be protected from. All else, the strong rule the weak."

       Elliot frowned but shifted his line of questioning as his reporter side told him he would get not further useful information apart from the Dark Lord's twisted logic. "When was the first time you discovered you had the gift of parseltongue?"

       The Dark Lord smiled and Elliot was horrified to note that it seemed truly happy. "When I was four, I was in the field behind the orphanage I grew up in. The grass was long, it was summer and the older children had thrown their ball out of bounds and disturbed a small grass snake. It was crawling away, muttering to itself," the Dark Lord laughed at the memory, a happy chuckle. "I thought I was hearing things, or that one of the other children was cursing, the little thing had quite a mouth, until I saw it, and then I just said hello. I was quite surprised when it spoke back!

       "This was at a time when I was learning that I could do things the other children could not. I was using the wild magic around me and like all children that age, I needed a friend. He was very good to me."

       "So what happened to him?"

       The Dark Lord sighed as he looked to the roof. "I think he got eaten by a hawk," he said easily, enjoying the shocked expression on Elliot's face. "One day he was just not there, so I assume something managed to catch and eat him. I cried but that was just a practical application of what I knew. The strong survive. My little friend was not weak, but he was not the strongest, I knew that, so I was not overly upset but I did resolve to be the strongest I could be so that if ever I was to be caught and eaten, I would at least put up a fight."

       "There have been some times when you have been noted to spare very young children, leaving them orphaned but alive. Is there a reason for this?"

       "But I can be a fox who kills just for the pleasure. There are many more I have not spared," the Dark Lord admitted, his blood red eyes glowing. "It is simple. The young are still learning, still discovering their strengths, and they should be nurtured while they grow. They still need to accept the consequences of their actions but they should not be attacked with the full force I would direct at an adult. Humans, like basilisks, are a species that nurture their children, not even I am devoid of that urge completely."

       "But you attacked Harry Potter when he was nothing more than a babe in swaddling cloths."

       "I can be a fox who kills just for the pleasure," the Dark Lord repeated before he sighed. "If you were a basilisk, and knowing that the cry of a rooster can kill you, you had the opportunity to kill the chick, wouldn't you take that opportunity?

       Elliot frowned. He could see the logic but didn't want to speak and motioned that the Dark Lord should continue. His point was made though.

       "Make no mistake, Mr Potter has never been a child and of all wizards he is the only one with enough power to fight me. I am a basilisk at heart, and for me, he is the rooster. I simply struck before the rooster could develop his cry."

       "So what of your belief awarding children some protection?"

       "Young Harry has never been a child. And such protection was given to him by his parents. However, the strong still rule the weak. I am strong, and this was the course I chose. I owed Mr Potter no protection for he had not yet suffered from those crimes I believe children should be protected from. My strike was merciful and just."

       "What happened fifteen years ago, then? There are a lot of rumours, and stories and of the only two people who could tell, Mr Potter is too young to truly remember, and no one's really been in a position to ask you."

       Voldemort gave a rich laugh, reaching one long fingered hand to stroke his chin. "October 31st..." he murmured. "I remember it well." His eyes became shaded with thought before he continued. "As you know, I was gaining strength and followers with prodigious haste then. Had that continued, it would have been over within the year. But always there were those that opposed me. Your Order of the Phoenix was rather prominent there. The Potters, the Longbottoms, the Parvatis, Black, Lupin... the list seems endless.

       "I always knew James Potter was a very dangerous wizard. Powerful, wise and ingenious with his charms. Teamed up with his wife, they took down any number of my servants, servants who should never have fallen. Then I discovered that James only wielded a part of his Gryffindor heritage and that his son would develop the full powers of Gryffindor. Coupled with my desire to destroy what had become a very annoying team of Aurors, this new information spurred me to act.

       "The Fidelus Charm..." the Dark Lord mused. "I must say, that was a wonderful piece of deception, having Pettrigrew cast it. Had the rat been true, I would have believed either Black or Dumbledore to be the Secret Keeper and gone after them both. But as you now know, the rat was mine so it was a simple thing to determine their location.

       "I chose a night when my powers were at their strongest. Even though it should not have been possible, somehow they sensed me coming. I do believe they would have run, and if I had moved slower, they would have gotten away. As it was, James stayed to try to buy time for Lily to get away, but that was something she was wise enough to know couldn't happen.

       "He fought me. He fought me very bravely and very skilfully, and had he wielded the full power of his blood it might have come out differently. He didn't though, and while he did wound me, it was not enough. Very brave, very courageous, a true Gryffindor.

       "Lily knew he was dead. I think she knew the moment his body hit the floor. She didn't cry though, or if she did I saw no tears. She waited for me, up in the nursery. She'd already placed a shield charm on Harry and was standing before it. I didn't even open the door before she started casting. Her husband might have had the raw power of Gryffindor but she had skill.

       "Thinking back, the two of them stood up to me with more courage and skill that anyone, bar their son, ever had or has. I still remember both duels against them as being two of the hardest I have ever fought. In the end though, skill was not enough, and though I did not know it then, she used the last of her life force to cast another shield...

       "No... it wasn't another shield. I don't think whatever Lily cast has a name because it was a purely elemental charm. Protection and love all rolled into one nameless energy.

       "And then I saw him, young Harry Potter. Those emerald eyes looked up at me and he wasn't afraid. He knew what had happened and he wasn't afraid. I think that's why I decided to cast _Avada Kedavra_ on him. I wanted to see his fear as a charm the colour of his eyes took his life, or maybe I just wanted to finish the family off with the one curse.

       "I cast the curse, and there was a tremendous flash of light as the elemental magic took effect. I'll admit, not even I'm sure what exactly happened. The only thing I really know is that it hurt, and I'm sure it didn't work quite the way Lily intended because I did not die. Or maybe it did. No one will ever know what she really intended. Possibly some of my immortality charms took effect...

       "My body was destroyed and my soul was freed to roam unhindered.

       "In that one moment, at that singular point in time, I find it amusing to think that a woman who was dead was the strongest witch, for with her death she surpassed us all.

       "The elemental magic could only work with Harry's magic and as the energy was drained from him he began crying. The death of both parents didn't faze him, the killing curse didn't cause a whimper, only the draining of his magic made him cry. Heh... I would have struck him, even in spiritual form but then young Sirius Black arrived, followed by that half human oaf and while I was still livid with rage, I decided it best if I withdrew. Neither of them could hurt me in spirit form but Dumbledore could have." The Dark Lord grinned. "Lucky for me he didn't want to see the dead."

       Elliot nodded, glancing over to his wand to make sure it was still recording. "So what happened last year? Fifteen years ago you lost your corporeal form but yet you are sitting before me. How is that possible?"

       "While Lily Potter's last magic, combined with her son's energy reduced me to a mere spirit, I was still alive. I could still plan and act, very weakly with the corporeal world. It took thirteen years for me to gather enough energy to recreate a body, and even then I could not do it alone. It took the sacrifice of my loyal servant Nagini for me to accomplish it. She did not sacrifice herself, she sacrificed her children. From their flesh I could create the simulacrum of a human form but it was as small and as weak as baby.

       "The rat took care of my child form while I regathered the strength to advance. That took another year both to regain the strength and to gather the ingredients required. Wormtail was never a servant who could hold his nerve. The final ingredient required was Mr Potter's blood.

       "The names of the rituals I used to reconstitute my body will not mean a thing to you because most of them are not named. I created them. I had many years to learn while in spirit form, many years to think and determine the best way of doing it."

       "And so close to a year after your resurrection you and your forces made a bid to take over," Elliot summarised. "You were stopped though, by Rebellion. We already know what happened then but who were the two who helped you after Lucius cast _Avada Kedavra_ on you?"

       "I would suggest you not make this information public knowledge, Mr Bryant. I will tell you for the Order. The shadows do not always obey the Dark Lord. Grindlewald knew nothing of them but they revealed themselves to me. Those two... the little one is a personal servant," the Dark Lord grinned licentiously. "The other is a more adult manifestation of their power. I believe he was a wizard at some stage but one they have now taken over so completely that he is simply an extension of them."

       "They brought you back to life?"

       "The shadows did, yes, but I was never truly dead. Vampire blood, from those that are old enough, is most potent. Xeoaph's presence in the battle should have made it clear which vampire I took blood from."

       "Is Lucius alive?"

       "For now. And for the Order, those Muggles who hurt Harry are still alive... most of them anyway."

       Elliot nodded. "So what do you plan now?"

       "Now?" Voldemort sighed. "Now I intend to fight. I will win it all. You can try to stop me but I you will not be able to. I will enjoy the attempt though. And then I will rule it all, with Harry as my consort."

       "Dumbledore was telling the truth with that?" Elliot gulped. Somehow he hadn't quite been able to truly believe that.

       "He told you?" The Dark Lord's eyes glittered with mirth. "Yes, I no longer fear the rooster. He will fight me, no doubt but I will enjoy breaking him to my will."

       "You're sick."

       "No, I simply have the power to do what I want. I told you, there is one rule which governs this world. Those who are strong rule. It is simply an extension of that. Those who are strong may do what they please. And he pleases me." The Dark Lord waved his hand, extending his magic to cancel the recording charm as he rose. "Come. It is time for you to learn truly that I am a viable alternative to the Ministry. Then I will let you go, so that you may tell the world."

       Elliot swallowed hard, his eyes wide as he looked at the serpentine man before him. Just talking he'd been charming, unthreatening but now he radiated menace, the magic gathering around him in almost tangible waves. He tried to stand but found his stomach churning and his knees felt weak. Harry had gone up against this? His parents had? It wasn't possible.

       A long fingered hand reached out and hauled him up with inhuman strength. "Never forget what I am," Voldemort snarled. "Now, come, I have a Ministry building to destroy."

 

 


	6. What is Right

Weapon  
Chapter 6 What is Right

===

       Elliot shivered and fought to hold back the whimpers. He'd prided himself on being a proud member of the Order of the Phoenix, of being able to fight, to duel maybe not brilliantly but adequately when necessary and in his reporting for the Daily Prophet, he'd prided himself on being able to face all - good and bad - that wizards could offer.

       He was wrong.

       The Dark Lord had dragged him through the shifting corridors of his stronghold. It had been a confusing mass of colour and there was no way he could have navigated it alone. It seemed there had been red masked Death Eaters at every junction and they had all fallen into line behind their Lord, moving silently. They'd emerged into a court yard where further Death Eaters waited, all red masked and silent. Serpents, too many to count had been gathered in a corner in one writhing mass. Behind them, strangely still but chillingly in their presence was a small group of Dementors.

       The Dark Lord had released him then, pinning him in place with no more than a half glance as he'd stepped forward to address his children. Elliot didn't remember much of the speech. It had been a coldly logical address though and the battle plan had been laid out with callous precision. There had been no cheering, not excesses, nothing anyone associated with the dark forces.

       They'd deployed silently, leaving their Lord alone. He'd flicked a charm at the gathered serpents after hissing a few words at them. They'd sorted themselves into some order but Elliot wasn't sure what they'd been called upon to do. The Dementors had bowed at him and then retreated back into the castle.

       Once everyone and everything was deployed the Dark Lord had cast a further charm on himself, transfiguring his robes into heavy red velvet. Elliot wasn't sure was else he did with the transfiguration but he knew it was something. The Dark Lord had seemed powerful before the transfiguration, now he seemed invincible. With that, the long fingered hand had reached out again, grabbing him and there had been a pulse of power as the Dark Lord apparated.

       Straight into hell.

       That had been Elliot's first thought as he tried to look around the battle. He'd thought they were going to take a building, but this wasn't a building. This was open combat. There were small groups of wizards facing off against Death Eaters and waves of magic pulsed back and forth over the field. He looked up at the imposing visage of the Dark Lord but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was simply raking red eyes over the entire field, his expression stoic as he took in the results of his orders.

       With a flourish of red robes the Dark Lord had stepped forward, casting charms with an accuracy that was hard to imagine. Elliot was vaguely aware of two red masked Death Eaters, descending upon him, strangely calm and collected within the chaos as they dragged him after their Master.

       Bryant had stopped trying to fight the movement then, and allowed himself to be directed amidst the carnage, his legs just supporting him as the two Death Eaters wove their way through everything. He was defenceless, his wand was back on the table in that other room and even if he could have grabbed a wand from one of the fallen there was nothing he could do.

       Above them a mottled dome was in place and Bryant felt his eyes widen as he recognised what it was. Displacement magic. It seemed incongruous that the Dark Lord would bother with such precaution: when did he care about the knowledge of Muggles? But he was the only one who could have cast such a large shield. The Ministry building and all within the shield would remain separate from the outside world until he, or someone else took the shield down. And the Muggles would know nothing! He gulped, watching the Dark Lord, confused. Had he truly been telling the truth about not caring, yet, about ruling the Muggles?

       Elliot shook his head at the question before he re-focused his attention on the red robed Dark Lord. He had other things to consider now. He remembered the fear of the previous war but he hadn't been old enough to fight and there had only been rumours about You-Know-Who's prowess. He gulped as he realised the situation had not been understated.

       Charms and curses were cast with the minimum amount of movement and it seemed for most spells he didn't even bother with the correct wand motion. His targeting was unerringly accurate and as Elliot watched several groups of wizards were taken out with a few well-placed curses. But as he watched he noticed something peculiar.

       The Dark Lord never attacked anyone within at least a twenty foot radius of himself. As several more groups fell, Elliot gulped as he understood the reasoning.

       The small groups of wizards knew they had been attacked as soon as the first curse or charm broke within them and they then began searching for the perpetrator but in a battle such as this, where the combatants were always in motion it was difficult and they invariably looked towards the closest Death Eaters first. Once they confirmed that the attack hadn't come from them, in fact they were still accurately shielding against any close groups of Death Eaters, they began searching a wider radius for their attacker, and by then it was too late.

       A few groups had managed to identify their attacker, and their eyes had widened in fear but that was only an instant before the final curse took effect. Elliot blinked back tears as he watched the fluid movements of the serpentine man. The rumours were true, every last one of them. He was truly a god of battle.

       The Dark Lord glanced at the ground and hissed a few words to the serpent there before he turned with a smile towards the reporter. "It is nearly over," he reassured him, flicking a curse over the man's head at the wizard which was approaching from the rear. "They were slightly more ingenious with their defences than I thought," he said conversationally and Elliot couldn't help but notice the pleased smirk that appeared in the Dark Lord's voice. "What have you learnt, Bryant?"

       "What is there to learn but the proof of your cruelty, your ability to destroy?"

       Voldemort shook his head. "For a reporter, you see, but you do not see. A typical trait for one of the Order, I will admit, but one I had hoped the Old Man might have made some effort to weed out. Look around you."

       Elliot looked again. He tried not to focus on the few battles still being waged, knowing that they would be over soon but looked towards the outskirts of the battle ground. Several Death Eaters were bent over other wizards, their wands in hand, and for a moment he thought that they were delivering the killing blow, until he noticed the soft violet haze of the magic, and gentle manner that other Death Eaters levitated their injured colleagues with before they apparated away. There were other Death Eaters moving through the injured but they were attending to the wizards. "H... healers?" He blurted disbelievingly.

       The Dark Lord looked smug. "I do care for my own," he said coldly before he turned away again, leaving the reporter to his even more confused thoughts.

       Bryant shook his head. _It isn't possible._ The thought would not go away as he struggled to breath around the shock coursing through his system.

       A small group of Death Eaters formed up and entered the building they had been assigned to attack, an escort of serpents surrounding them.

       He looked around further and sure enough most of the groups of wizards, those that were still conscious or alive were dropping their wands and being rounded up by the Death Eaters. They were being searched and other weapons and back up wands were being removed with swift efficiency before they were gathered into a singular group. The red masked Death Eaters made a perimeter around them, wands levelled and in plain sight. Several serpents wove their way around and through the wizards, their tongues continually testing the air as they sniffed out any potions or weapons that had not been detected.

       It was all being conducted with quiet efficiency that Elliot knew the Order would be hard pressed, at least without significant training together, to duplicate. Only the most elite teams of Aurors or Unspeakables, those what had been together for years could hope to match the ease of efficiency. Elliot gulped. They had far more work ahead of them that he had ever believed possible.

       After another hissed conversation with a serpent, a python this time, he turned burning red eyes towards the gathered wizards. They were shifting nervously as the gravity of the situation began to dawn upon them. Not only had they been defeated but now they were totally at the mercy of the most evil Dark Lord in memory, and they were completely defenceless. You could see the worry and the panic begin to dawn in their eyes. They had known it but it had taken a few moments for the information to really sink in. The cold calculating gaze of the Dark Lord seemed to have that effect.

       The Death Eaters dragging Elliot dropped him unceremoniously in a position where he could observe everything and he felt a cold chill run down his spine. He didn't need to look to know that they had taken a step back and now had their wands trained upon him.

       "Where is the Deputy Minister for Public Relations?" The voice was quiet but Bryant wasn't the only one who shivered at the tone and he knew that all the gathered wizards had heard it.

       "He's... he's... not here." One of the wizards in the front stuttered, their eyes downcast.

       One black eyebrow raised questioningly and the Dark Lord stepped forward. Slowly with an imperial air that defied description he reached out one long fingered hand to place one finger under the wizard's chin to raise their face to meet his gaze.

       A condescending smirk appeared on his lips and his eyes were half hooded as he whispered again, ignoring the shaking of the wizard before him. "Where is the Deputy Minister for Public Relations?" The Dark Lord's voice even pitched at a whisper was still rich, like velvet but it was infinitely more dangerous.

       The wizard shuddered, shrugging to look away but the Dark Lord help him firmly. He gulped, not a mean feat against the finger pressed under his chin. "He's not here."

       There was a collective gasp as a small serpent appeared from the Dark Lord's sleeve. It inched forward, its tongue flickering. It was marked with brilliant red and black scales and several of the wizards flinched back as they realised how poisonous it was. Eventually it reared off the Dark Lord's hand to look into the wizard's eyes, its coils wrapped around his arm, disappearing into his sleeve. With a soft hiss and a snap so quiet it shouldn't have been heard but that seemed deafening its hood opened and it began to weave back and forth. The threat was obvious.

       "You stink of the lie," Voldemort said easily, his eyes intent. "Where is the Deputy Minister for Public Relations? I will not ask again."

       The wizard's eyes opened wide as the sheen of sweat covering him deepened. Tears began streaming down his face and you could see the calculation in his eyes. To tell, or not to tell. To live or die.

       The Dark Lord looked on impassively. He could see everything but was unmoved by either the mounting tension or the panic. In fact he seemed to be radiating pleasure.

       "I..."

       Voldemort raised the wizard's head higher.

       "I... I don't..."

       As the wizard was speaking there came a shout from the building as the red masked Death Eaters who had stormed it earlier emerged from the door dragging a prisoner with them.

       The Dark Lord bent low and whispered into the wizard's ear, "Be sure it's worth it before you die," before he rose and waited for the prisoner to be brought before him. The cobra had disappeared back into his robes.

       The man kicked and screamed, struggling for all he was worth as the Death Eaters dragged him towards their Lord. With a casual back hand though, one of the Death Eaters stunned him briefly and they completed the short journey quickly, bowing before their Lord. A serpent gave a short hissed report which caused the Dark Lord to grin, leading most of the wizards to shiver again.

       "My dear Tidius Moulton," Voldemort greeted the Deputy Minister for Public Relations easily. "It's been too long." The sense of regal imperialism had not faded.

       Tidius looked up with wild eyes at the voice but he said nothing as he shook his head vigorously. Most of the wizards were looking on with shock and the one that had been questioned by the Dark Lord was shivering uncontrollably as he realised the truth.

       "Moulton, Moulton, Moulton, you never told them?" Voldemort laughed. "Well, of course you didn't. The Ministry couldn't have a precious Ministerial position held by a Death Eater, now could they?"

       "No..." Tidius whispered.

       "You have had over a year to return to me," the Dark Lord said coldly, his aura of imperial power at full strength, eyes half closed as he looked in disgust at the man. "I have called numerous times but still you did not answer. Did you perhaps forget your vow to me?"

       "My Lord... please..." One eye brow raised as the Dark Lord pulled his chin up.

       "My children..." Tidius sobbed.

       "Will be spared," Voldemort snapped. "You are merely stupid to ignore me but not suicidal enough to be involved in Lucius' action. Pray though, that they do not repeat their Father's mistake."

       "Tha...Eargh!" Moulton screamed, his face twisted in horror, limbs contorted at the Dark Lord's gesture. He retained enough of his mind though to try to claw at his arm as he writhed in agony. It only took a few moments but to the watching wizards it seemed to take forever before Tidius' face blackened and his final breath left him in a rush.

       The Dark Lord disregarded the body as he looked around. "You disagree with my decision?" He asked Elliot at the reporters horrified** but questioning look.

       "You killed him!"

       "Of course," Voldemort said matter of factly.

       "There was no reason to kill him."

       "There was every reason to kill him. He swore an oath to me. Your vow to the Order of the Phoenix is binding for life, why should mine be any different?"

       Elliot gulped, trying and failing in his attempt not to quail under that intense gaze as the Dark Lord walked towards him. He opened his mouth to speak but the words failed him and as he gathered himself to try again, he was interrupted.

       " _Die, traitor!_ "

       The scream came from one of the red masked Death Eaters who as their Lord passed by, spun away from his guarding position, drawing a dagger and driving it towards the Dark Lord's back.

       Elliot blinked. He never even saw the movement and only registered the concerned cries from the other Death Eaters once it was over. Voldemort moved, too fast to see, dodging the blow aimed at his unprotected back, somehow managing to catching the perpetrators arms with his left hand, flipping the man so that he was suspended, back to the ground, in the Dark Lord's grip. A long fingered white hand was wrapped around the left side of his chest and as the mask fell, they could see that the man was grimacing in pain. Blood red eyes burned intensely as the Dark Lord looked down and his robes fell around him as they caught up with the movement.

       "I thought you would have known better, Amir," Voldemort murmured.

       Before Amir could respond there was a wet crack and he gulped, gurgling. The cracking continued and Amir gasped, blood streaming from his mouth. He tried to scream but choked and his feet tapped a rapid stattaco on the ground as his eyes bulged. There was the smell of burning and the slick sound of something wet falling to the ground was heard before the Dark Lord let the body drop. With an indifferent snap of his hand he flicked the blood from his fingers, splattering several wizards.

       Elliot wasn't the only one to gag at the sight of the body. The entire left side of the chest was one bloody mess. Bones protruded through skin and cloth in a disordered mess. Bubbles were popping softly through the blood and the flesh was burnt.

       "You're..." Bryant coughed as he struggled to keep his stomach calm. The Dark Lord had done that all with his bare hands! "You're not human."

       "I never claimed to be," the response came nonchalantly before Voldemort turned back to the wizards. "You have been utterly defeated, I think that much is obvious, but I can be merciful." Even the Dark Lord smiled at the irony of his words, two dead bodies at his feet and the blood still dripping from his hands. "No matter what you may think, I do not need corpses and so for now, I will leave. Consider this a warning, for I will not be merciful forever."

       The Dark Lord raised his hands, energy collecting there and despite his words, the wizards flinched back. He smiled, that ghastly smile that made a mockery of the word and raised both hands, " _Noitaniur,_ " he whispered, loud enough to be heard as a ball of red energy coalesced in each hand.

       With a lazy flick he sent the first one into the Ministry building. It burned its way neatly through the wall and for an instant it didn't seem like there was any damage. Then came the boom and the sound of timber being stressed and collapsing on itself. Dust began to pour out of the shattered door.

       The other ball of energy was thrown in, although the Dark Lord left his arm extended, his hand open wide. The second energy ball disappeared into the dust, but its crash through the walls and internal structure of the building could be heard.

       With a slow motion Voldemort closed his long fingered hand into a fist. The noise was incredible and most of the wizards were cringing backwards. The dust was obscuring everything so they couldn't see what was happening but they didn't need to.

       Finally the crashing noise ceased and all that could be heard was the occasional bounce and crunch of small rumble settling. With a wave of his hand the Dark Lord summoned a wind and drove away the dust to reveal the ruins of the building

       Plaster and timber rose at odd angles and nothing looked whole.

       "I must remember to thank Lucius for that charm," Voldemort murmured as he once more made a small gesture before proudly pronouncing the words that caused the wizards the shudder. The building was bad enough but these words had been drilled into them to fear for their lives. "Morsmordre!"

       The emerald skull made of stars with its snake tongue rose into the air, expanding as it moved to hover over the destroyed building. But this time the skull was different. Emerging from the skulls temples and from a point behind the serpent's ears, down on its body, made of little black stars were wings. Like everything else on the mark they were perfectly defined.

       The Dark Lord looked at his hand, flexing his fingers before he smiled again. "I should have expected that," he said unconcerned at the change in his symbol.

       "Next time, bow to me or die."

       With that Voldemort nodded towards his forces and as one they vanished. He raked ruby eyes once more over the still trembling wizards, most of whom didn't dare breathe before he gave a rich laugh and vanished, the echo of his mirth lingering in the air.

===

       Elliot quivered, his teeth rattling together loudly as he drew his blanket around him tighter. It had been three days since the Dark Lord had attacked, and since then there had been nothing but silence from the dark forces. His wand had been returned to him. Dumbledore had given it back with a flourish and a wink to indicate that he had already erased those sections of the 'interview' that were for the Order only.

       That wasn't bothering him though.

       The memories were.

       He'd managed to convince himself that what he'd seen was only fictional. A pretty act by the Dark Lord to draw him in, to show him the strength and speed of the dark forces but now the coroner-wizard report was lying in front of him and he was remembering everything.

       In the instant after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named apparated there had been silence as the gathered wizards looked at each other. They were alive. There was a general feeling of shock permeating through them. Truly, none of them had expected it to be over so easily or so painlessly. Most had been making their peace with God as quietly as they could before he vanished. The wizard the Dark Lord had questioned shuddered, crawling forward to look at Tidius' body. A quick check of the pulse confirmed the Deputy Minister's death, before with shaking hands, the wizard pulled back the left sleeve, rolling it up to past the elbow.

       "That's not possible!" He hissed as the flung himself backwards.

       Burnt into Moulton's skin, grinning up at them with shocking clarity was the Death's Head, the snake tongue lolling from bony jaws, undulating down the Deputy Minister's arm. The Mark itself was black, an intricate tattoo that left out no detail but the skin around it was burnt red, evidence of the ferocity of the Dark Lord's strike. Tidius had arched backwards, his body stiff and the foam on his lips was only now beginning to pop. His whole posture bespoke the terror he had felt before he died.

       "It's not possible! It's not possible! It's not possible!" The wizard was whispering as a litany as he shivered badly, rocking back and forth, eyes staring blankly at the Minister's Dark Mark. "It's not possible, but you're seeing it," one of the more callous wizards said.

       "It's not possible," another agreed with the first. "Just the other day, Tidius came in dressed like a Muggle. He had short sleeves on, and we'd have noticed a Dark Mark. _And_ after the attack we all underwent scans." "I could have..." the first wizard stuttered, "I was going to..." He gagged. "I was going to die for him..." Eyes opened wide as the realisation came crashing down on him. "I was going to..."

       "What did You-Know-Who whisper to you?"

       "He... he told me... No..." the memory brought a new realisation. It was obvious. With Tidius' execution he should have known but the shock was holding back his thought processes and it was only now, when the question was asked did the Dark Lord's amusement make complete sense. He had enjoyed his refusal but no doubt, somewhere, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was enjoying the aching sickness the wizard was now feeling. "He told me 'Be sure it's worth it before you die.'"

       The response brought a shudder from all the gathered wizards. It could so easily have been them. They would have been sure, they would have been true to the man they thought was one of the Ministry's finest.

       They would have been dead.

       All for a lie.

       They'd spoken about Moulton's body because it was easier to bear than the other but slowly their gaze shifted to the Death Eater who had been identified as Amir. Above them the shimmering dome that was the Dark Lord's displacement shield began to fade but the Dark Mark still glittered solidly. They had no idea what the new symbol meant.

       A few of the more astute wizards began to look around, preparing to obliviate Muggles if required, or to duck if Auror's appeared, charms cast as they expected the worst. One or two compassionate wizards had begun to move through the wounded, doing what they could until trained medi-staff appeared.

       But for the most part their attention was beginning to focus on the Death Eater. If you ignored the left side of his chest, and the pool of blood spread... no, there was no way you could ignore it. His death had been brutal in the extreme. Even the justification 'but he was a Death Eater' was insufficient to justify, to accept the violence of his passing.

       One youngish wizard, less squeamish than the rest approached Amir slowly. The movement was skittish, as if he expected the man to jump at him at any moment but curiosity was slowly overwhelming horror. "How did..." you could hear the frown in his voice, "How did he burn him?"

       Bryant had wondered that at the time... He knew now. The words had been scribed for all to see. They were now public record and it only scared him further, they made the inhumanity of the Dark Lord all that more real.

       _'Victim suffered extreme blunt force trauma to the left side of the chest cavity. First thru to the eighth rib were fragmented into multiple sections. Other ribs fractured severely due to trauma. Right ribs were also fractured.'_

       That was the bit he expected... as were the details of which rib had punctured the skin, which the lungs and so forth... The coroner-wizard had been very thorough with his examination. He had refused to estimate the Dark Lord's grip strength simply because there was not enough evidence. The ribs had been snapped like twigs so Voldemort was at least that strong. How much more though was a matter of conjecture.

       Elliot knew that though. He had felt the inhumane strength when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had gripped his shoulder. It didn't concern him. There were several potions and charms - Re'em blood was most potent - that could enhance physical strength and there was always the Muggle way of working out, doing weights. It was the explanation for the burning that chilled him.

       _'Cause of death is indeterminate. Blunt force trauma could have caused death, however in addition to the visible wounds, victim was suffering from case of extreme poisoning. Poison was basilisk venom, introduced to the body via the chest region as evidenced by the severe burning on epidermis and other tissues._

_'All internal organs showed verification of the poisoning and many have been destroyed. While the ingression point of the poison is obvious the means of transferral is not...'_

       It was... it was all too obvious... The Dark Lord wasn't human.

       It wasn't his strength. That, while not normal, could be copied.

       It wasn't his mind. He was sick, true, but such sickness was known in others.

       It was his body.

       They'd all assumed the Dark Lord had re-constituted a human body...

       He hadn't...

       He had admitted it himself that his body had come from a serpent. But such transmutation...

       Animagus transformations were possible...

       But to sustain human life in a non-human form...

       He had said he wasn't human though...

       Elliot shuddered, his teeth rattling so hard he thought he might break them.

       :Are you there?:

       Bryant recognised the voice. It was oddly echoing as Dumbledore's mental presence was boosted by Fawkes. It was not intrusive and this was not something they did often. The stain was too much. Reaching from Hogwarts to London was a stretch, especially when contacting one who's mind was in turmoil like his.

       :You're in my head,: Elliot replied with the line he always used in this situation. :Where else would I be?:

       :Your distress is evident to the Order.:

       He gasped. :I'm sorry. I didn't realise I was projecting.:

       :We've cut it off now,: Dumbledore reassured him as Fawkes sent a pure note of courage into him. :Do you want to discuss it with anyone?:

       :It's just not possible!: Elliot lashed out mentally.

       :Unfortunately it is,: Albus said steadily, understanding Bryant's frustrations. He'd suspected Tom had been altering his body fifteen years ago but he'd never been able to prove it. The coroner-wizard's report and the information he'd just told Elliot had confirmed it. Before his death, he had been serpent like, now he was a serpent.

       :What? How?:

       :It is not anything any sane wizard would do to themselves but Tom has not been sane for a long time. He was, even in the past, experimenting with altering his form, in an effort to attain immortality.:

       :But... but that's just sick.:

       :Tom is sick but his sickness is dangerous because he has the power to hurt others.:

       Elliot nodded, even though he knew Dumbledore couldn't see the gesture. The presence of Fawkes in his mind was calming him. This really was only his problem. He shouldn't be troubling others with it. :Do you want me to write that article? If the Order doesn't want it, I'll find a way to say no to the Editor.:

       :You might find a way to say no to the Editor, but you won't find a way to say no to Tom, he's expecting it,: Dumbledore replied. :I will not risk that. Just tell it as a story of what happened.:

       :Even with what he wants?:

       :Include everything you can. I'll make sure there are some other articles in the paper as well, to balance everything out.:

       :Okay.:

       :Elliot, every member of the Order is important. Hogwarts is open.:

       :I understand,: Bryant nodded as he felt the ancient wizard and phoenix withdraw from his mind, Fawkes giving him a light mental caress.

       Bryant looked around as he was once again alone. With everything that had happened, it really shouldn't have surprised him that the Dark Lord was quite literally inhuman in more than just actions.

===

       Harry paced back and forth, his feet silent on the stone of the dormitory. The others were asleep. A long day with an OWL had meant that they had all fallen asleep early. He didn't mind that. They needed their rest. What he wanted now wasn't rest...

       He'd read the articles detailing Voldemort's attack on the Ministry building with a carefully hidden smile. The building meant nothing but the attack was pleasing. They were moving forward. However slowly, they were beginning to move forward.

       A year by the shadows estimation was certainly better than the twenty seven years of fighting it would take if he remained with his beloved but the few weeks he had been away already felt like a life time.

       And damn it... he _never_ thought he'd feel this, he was horny.

       He wanted the taste of Voldemort on his tongue, the feel of white skin under his hands and the incredibly sweet but tight feeling his lover invoked in him. He wanted to be in the Dark Lord and he wanted the Dark Lord in him.

       Harry groaned, realising that his thoughts weren't helping...

       :Problems?:

       :Yes, damn it!:

       The shadows laughed but then smoothed themselves around him sympathetically.

       :After everything with Heprah and the others... I never thought... I never believed... I'd want someone. But I want him...:

        :We know, Master, we know.: They opened themselves to him, allowing him to feel the echo of their need, the need they had felt for centuries when longing for a Master. It was infinite and made his longing seem childish. :No, Master, no... there is nothing childish about your desire. We showed you only so that you know we understand.:

       Harry nodded as he got back into bed, curling himself up under the covers. Even if he couldn't sleep, he should at least rest. :Tell me a story?:

       :What?: He could hear the outrage in their tone.

       :Talk to me, so that I don't think of him... or this need.:

       :No.:

       :Why not?:

       :There are only a few stories, a few of our histories that are worth telling but we aren't ready to tell them to you yet, Master. Talk to him instead.:

       :Huh?:

       :Just reach out to your beloved, you should be able to reach him.:

       Harry's emerald eyes narrowed. He could reach the Dark Lord, but he hadn't wanted to since he was almost certain Fawkes would be able to tell.

       :The phoenix is busy.:

       :You guys are busy as well, aren't you?:

       :Yes.:

       :This time, I'll let you off,: Harry said.

       :Next time, we will tell you,: the shadows said before they mentally bowed at him and vanished.

       Harry closed his eyes as he focused on his beloved. His first movement was a tentative brushing up against him. There was a surprised flinch before the Dark Lord's mind opened to him.

       :Harry.:

       :Voldemort.:

       Harry sighed and poured his desires into his beloved. There was a mental chuckle and a caress of understanding but he was slightly suspicious when he felt nothing returned. Quickly, Harry grabbed at a thought Dark Lord was hiding.

       A wave of longing and some very graphic images of him flooded into his mind. He licked his lips in anticipation.

       :The saying that anticipation enhances enjoyment when you get your desire is a fallacy,: Voldemort said. :But,: he added with a wicked mental smile, :It does give you time to plan.:

       :Heh!: Harry smiled as he flicked through the images again. They were arousing, true but now that he was in contact with his beloved, the urge was more pleasurable than frustrating. Besides the Dark Lord definitely had an active imagination, not only where the pictures graphic but he was amazed at some of the positions the Serpent Lord thought were possible.

       A lot of them though involved a fair amount of blood.

       :I always liked the idea of you splattered with the traitor's blood,: came the quiet explanation.

       Harry groaned again at the wave of desire that flooded through him. :Any particular person's?:

       :I had thought Lucius' but his is too crude.:

       :You can use Draco's once we're finished,: the shadows said softly before they withdrew again.

       :You gave the brat to them?: Harry could sense the raised eye brow.

       :Hmm hum, although I rather like the idea of using Fawkes'.:

       Voldemort gave a rich laugh... :Keep that up and I will come early for you.:

       :Then I think I'll keep it up. Can we try this one first?: Harry flicked an image at his beloved. They were sitting, the Dark Lord was behind him, long fingered hands resting on his hips, guiding his movement. His head was thrown back and there was blood smeared on his chest, arms and legs, almost like the stripes on a tiger, or primeval markings of ownership. Voldemort's skin was mottled and he recognised the rippling diamond patterns that decorated any number of snakes.

       Voldemort hissed in longing, his mental presence caressing his little one. :Providing we can do this one after?: This time they were twined so closely together that it was only through skin tone that Harry could tell who was who. They were both splattered in blood and their motion had smeared it all over the other. Their mouths were locked together, arms wrapped around the other and legs tangled in a mess. Harry recognised the imperialistic patterns of a basilisk on his beloved this time.

       Harry laughed. The mental sound clear and joyful. He licked his lips in anticipation, holding back the knowledge that he would somehow be seeing the Dark Lord on his birthday. :I look forward to it.:

       :Then I will see to it that the Ministry falls.:

       :And I will to it to make sure all the dark knows who their Lord is.:

       :You are our Lord,: the shadows whispered to Harry privately.

       :Then you will obey me and see to it that my beloved remains safe,: Harry returned.

       :We will see to it, but never forget that you alone are our Lord.:

       :I won't.:

       : _'Know that I will come for you Harry. Know that nothing will stand in my way. You are my little one, Harry. You are my Phoenix crested Basilisk and I will come for you. Wait for me, my little one, wait for me. You are mine,'_ : the Dark Lord quoted the lines to him with a smile.

       :I will wait for you,: Harry murmured as he felt sleep finally claim him.

 

 


	7. Alliance

Weapon  
Chapter 7 Alliance

===

       Narcissa sat quietly as she waited. She had learnt early that the patience was the only way to deal with the man she was waiting for. Eventually he finished with his current client and ushered them politely out the door, closing it gently.

       Silver eyes turned towards her. "The answer is no."

       "But..." She felt her eyes widen at the immediate rejection, tears gathering... He was her last hope.

       "I warned you when you married him, you would not be enough. I cannot save him."

       "You can!"

       Ollivander smiled but it was not comforting. "I will not save him," he altered his words, before he locked the door and flipped the sign, knowing she would argue the point and wanting privacy for that.

       "Why not? Please, Master!" Narcissa begged.

       "I warned you when you married him, child that he would not become the man you saw, the man you hoped he would be. The arrogance was too strong within him even then."

       "Arrogance?" She questioned. "Then what of the Dark Lord's arrogance?"

       "I told you then that he would have two paths," Ollivander continued, ignoring her question, "and that only one path would allow life. One, he could remain loyal, continuing to obey the Dark Lord, or two, he could try what he did and be crushed utterly."

       "He could have won."

       "He was never going to win. Look!" Ollivander pointed to the ceiling.

       Pale green eyes looked towards the ceiling before they widened. "That's not possible."

       He ushered her into the back of the store, ignoring the shadow as it flowed along the ceiling following them into the well lit room where it took up a position in a corner. This was his work room, his retreat and it was shielded. It was shielded beyond anything the Ministry, or even the Dark Lord could penetrate. It was completely private. But such a place was of necessity for a being such as himself.

       "It was only a matter of time."

       "The Dark Lord controls them?"

       "No, they belong to someone else."

       Narcissa sniffed, fighting back the tears. "Please, master, my son?"

       Ollivander didn't miss the slight stir from the shadow at her question. He knew what it meant. "I could save your husband more easily that I could save your son."

       "He's just a boy."

       "The moment he chose to fight he became a man."

       "His Father forced him!"

       "It doesn't matter! 'There is no right and wrong, there is only power and the will to use it.' That is what the Dark Lord believes, that is what your husband believes and that is what your son believes," Ollivander told her. "You and I both know there is both right and wrong and that every individual must choose."

       Narcissa backed up eyes wide and unconsciously she prepared to fight. "They've got you," she whispered, frightened.

       Silver eyes clouded in confusion before he understood. "No. They know the rules of the game better than anyone."

       "Then why haven't you driven it out?" She hissed, pointing at the shadow.

       "Because it has done nothing and it will do nothing. It is just watching. It has said nothing. And if I drive it out, it will just return."

       "But their Master knows everything."

       "True, but that has never been a problem for me."

       As Narcissa continued to gather herself he narrowed his eyes, gathering his own power in a flash, suppressing the sigh that he was forced to do this. She had been warned when she married him... she had been warned when bearing his child but it seemed her human side had dominated her actions then and continued even now. Silver eyes glowed dangerously. "Do not presume to fight me, child, you are only a halfling and cannot hope to win against me." It was arrogant but it was a statement of fact.

       She was beyond listening and launched herself at him, embracing her tenshi heritage as she shed her human form to attack.

       Ollivander sighed at her movement, releasing the charms that held the illusion of his human form. He didn't miss the small start from the shadow watching in the corner. It appeared there were things even they did not know.

       It was not a battle, it was not a fight, it wasn't even a skirmish. Despite the fact that he was shorter than her as a pure-blood tenshi he was infinitely stronger and faster than her.

       He caught both wrists in one hand and drove down, sending her to her knees. The other grasped her throat, forcing her to look at him. Silver wings, an exact mix of white and black flared around him as he glared at her.

       "I can save neither your son nor husband, and even if I could I have no desire to save the arrogant man you have defiled yourself with," he hissed. "You were warned when you married that this could happen. You would have been better to let him go for with his arrogance he was always doomed. He was neither powerful enough nor intelligent enough to stand against the Dark Lord and his only hope lay in servitude. You should have kept him loyal. As for your son...

       "You are bad enough as a halfling child but you at least know your heritage. There are some species that should not mix. Tenshi and humans are cross fertile true, but we live in different worlds and it has come to this because you have chosen neither and now you think to save your son by bringing him into our world..?

       "He is a quarterling who knows nothing. He inherited all his father's arrogance without even a medicorum of intelligence or caution to counter it. You have told him nothing because you could tell him nothing for he has not the power to stand with us. Can he even transform?"

       Narcissa tried to breathe, tried to struggle but Ollivander tightened his grip, his inhuman eyes caring nothing for her attempts as he continued.

       "Of course he can't," he answered his own question. "I would have sensed his potential in an instant if he had that ability. His human blood is too strong and he has no choice but to be human.

       "He may not yet be of age but he chose to attack, he chose to fight and now he must face the consequences. You cannot save him and I have no desire to even attempt it for someone as worthless as him.

       "You have one chance," he added, releasing her wrists as her arms went weak and ripped at her sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark burned into the white skin of her arm. "One chance only to save yourself," he continued fixing his eyes on the Mark. "That is a contract. That is a magical binding contract that cannot be broken..."

       "...that is slavery..." she rasped.

       Ollivander smiled but there was nothing comforting or gentle there. "That is what you agreed to," he said relentlessly, "and that is your only hope of salvation. If you want to live you must go to him and you must swear your absolute allegiance and even then I doubt that will be enough." He reached out to grasp one of her halfling wings, small and white. Viciously he pulled at it and she cried out, the sound strangled by his remorseless grip on her throat.

       "If you want to survive child, you must show him your true self, that self you have not even shown your husband or son. He may not spare you, but this is the only thing which will entice him to even consider it.

       "And once that is done, you will need to prove your loyalty and for that you must be prepared to sacrifice whatever it takes. I'd suggest you take your son in chains to him."

       "...no..."

       "Your child is doomed. I do not know exactly the full extent of his actions but I do know I could more easily save your husband than your brat." He pulled again on one wing in punishment as she tried to shake her head, this time not holding back his strength and it was only because he was muffling her voice that the entire alley did not hear, as with a stray of blood and feathers he ripped it free.

       Ollivander released her and Narcissa fell to the ground moaning in pain as her tenshi heritage took over, healing the wound. Her wing would grow back in time... that was the nature of a tenshi, a pure energy being to be able to reform themselves as they wished... Because of her human blood she couldn't do it immediately, she had to wait for her body to gather the energy but it could be done but unlike him, her wings would always be white, no matter her intentions. There was a flash as Ollivander destroyed her dismembered wing.

       The tenshi resumed his human form. "Leave," he instructed quietly. "And do not come back unless you have decided to honour your word. You are a magical being, and you swore an oath in magic. If you do not honour it, you do not deserve your heritage and until you honour your word I will not help you. Accept the fact that they are gone and leave your human heritage. Do not attempt to save your son for he has angered more than the Dark Lord and is beyond help."

       Narcissa gulped... "What..?" She questioned weakly.

       Silver eyes looked back at her, ignoring the blood and there was almost an awed smile on his face. He gestured towards the shadow which hadn't moved. "They have an interest in him now," he said simply.

       The shadow scuttled in acknowledgement before stilling, seeming to watch the halfling with a superior gaze although no eyes could be determined.

       "No..." she whispered as his words registered. "No, I will not bow to his arrogance."

       "For some it is not arrogance."

       "For this Dark Lord it is!"

       "No, it isn't. For your husband it was, to presume he could fight. For your son it was for presuming to know and for you it is, for thinking they can be saved. There is only a select few for whom it is not arrogance, for whom their actions are based off their own desire and not from the presumption that it is their due. And there are only a few who have the power to take it all. I know this because it is my job to know!"

       "Lucius... Draco..."

       "No."

       "Yes! They should be the ones to have it all."

       "And yet their presumption would cause it all to fail. Even the Dark Lord knows humility when it suits him and that is required to rule. I would have destroyed him otherwise."

       "No," Narcissa said as she rose. "That they were not meant to have it all, I do not believe you. That you have not fallen prey to them," she gestured towards the shadow, "I do not believe you. And that I should again bow to the Dark Lord, I _will not!_ " she hissed before walking back through the stacks of wands, retrieving her cloak from the hook, moving to the door and unlocking it.

       "That is the arrogance you have whored yourself to," Ollivander said. "For your actions, child, your blood cannot save you," he added turning away.

       She was lost, human to the end, despite the blood that could have made her more.

       "Good bye, Master," Narcissa said as she drew her cloak around her, closing the door softly.

       "Good-bye child. If you fight him, do not rely on your blood," Ollivander continued even though she couldn't hear. "Your son inherited your husband's arrogance but he also inherited your unthinking nature. The line of Malfoy is ended."

       He looked up at the shadow, which had followed them back into his store. "You, out!" he pointed, his voice forceful. "You can come back tomorrow but for the moment I have no wish to hear your temptations. I am fully aware that I could save Lucius if I was prepared to do something for you in return but I'm not. Neither of them are worth it."

       The shadow seemed to blink at being addressed so directly before it flowed down the wall and pooled in the centre of the patch of light caused by his lamp. It was small but Ollivander wasn't fooled by that. Size meant nothing to a shadow. Somehow it gave the impression of nodding to him, giving him a feeling of respect he hadn't expected before it vanished, allowing the light to vanquish it. No doubt it would report all it had heard to its Master before it returned but that couldn't be helped, and that wasn't something which bothered him. He had his job to do and if a few gifted wizards learnt the truth of his existence, that was of little consequence. They could know... they just could not act.

       Ollivander closed silver eyes as he sat down. Narcissa was foolish, she had always been, her blindness made her stupid. She thought that her tenshi heritage gave her the right to choose, forgetting that there were others...

       Wait...

       Did she forget? Or did she just not know? It was possible that she did not know that there were other tenshi on earth since very few made themselves known... But it did not give her the right to choose or to believe she was anything more than human. It gave her no rights. Her mother should have taught her that... Apparently not though.

       Halfling or not, her rarity as a tenshi had made it difficult, her stupidity had made it easy. So few of them chose to live on this plane that he did not like to condemn any... not even a halfling.

       "But sometimes there is no choice."

       The voice was not his own and Ollivander turned in time to see another tenshi hovering there, jet black wings spread magnificently. They were in their full magical form, a being of pure energy but he had never seen this one before.

       Before he could ask, before he could consider anything about the differences in feeling he was receiving between the colour of their wings and the feel of their power, the tenshi nodded to him and vanished, gone without so much as a whisper of air.

       The encounter was as disturbing as it was calming. He knew all the tenshi on this world. It was his job to know, just as it was his job to watch the humans, the wizards, watch for those who possessed enough magic and the will to effect the magic plane, their world, watch them and determine the danger and if necessary act. That was why they could know but they could not be allowed to act.

       Narcissa was not suited for their world, nor was she suited for the human world and she made no attempt to embrace either. Her husband was an arrogant fool and the Dark Lord would make short work of him, if he hadn't already and her son was no better, although his end promised to be messy.

       It was for the best though. Their destruction would benefit both species as such arrogance was not becoming to those for whom it was not due and at the moment, there were only three humans who could claim everything as their right because there were only three who he had seen that were potential danger to his people if they so choose to be.

       Dumbledore, Riddle and Potter.

       One who acted in the attempt to protect it all but who failed to protect the individuals. He knew of the magic realm but was prepared to let it be. The danger with him had passed.

       One who was fierce in his determination to rule it all but who turn from that path with a glance from the one he chose. He wanted this world more than the next. The danger with him might yet rekindle but not for years.

       And one who had the right and the power to take it all but who knew the worthlessness of the whole. He could be a problem but for the moment was too tied up with the matters at hand to threaten them. He would bear watching though, for all his life, he would bear watching.

       The final battle lay with them. Narcissa could not change that and if she tried, all three would show her how powerless she truly was.

       "Pray for mercy, my child, pray for mercy."

===

       Sirius lay back on the grass trying to remember the last time he'd done this... Just let the world pass him by... it would be... it had been in his last week at Hogwarts. Their NEWTs had been finished, and they were taking the opportunity to relax in the relative safety of the school before they had to face the world, before they had to face the reality of the war. For him, that meant going back home...

       It meant going away from...

       He heard Remus before the other man crossed through his patch of sunlight, and smiled. Right at the moment, despite all his concerns, life was good.

       "You're being remarkably mellow today," the werewolf observed as he sat beside him.

       The effort required to gesture was too much. "The sky is blue, the sun is warm, the grass is cool, the wind is nice... it's a mellow day."

       "The Dark Lord is attacking, the Ministry is worried, the Order is concerned and there is change coming... hardly very relaxing."

       Sirius looked over at Remus cautiously. He saw immediately that something was wrong but was careful to keep his expression neutral. He didn't really know what his friend had been doing for the last year, some mission for the Order he'd been told, but he could see plainly that it hadn't gone well. Or at the very least, something else was troubling the werewolf. While they'd spoken at Harry's induction into the Order, there hadn't been time to talk.

       "Has the Dark Lord made an offer?" He asked. They had been driven apart seventeen years ago by their suspicions and he was determined that that wouldn't happen again. He didn't like it when he was separated from Remus... Azkaban had been bad because of the Dementors, but also because, barring this year and Hogwart's summers, if they didn't manage to arrange a visit, since he had met Lupin, it was the longest time he'd been separated from the werewolf.

       You didn't really appreciate how much you needed someone until you couldn't see them, and he knew how much he needed Remus.

       Remus snorted, "Not yet. We're expecting it though." Sirius knew more about the werewolves' organisation than most wizards but he still didn't know the truth. It was painful to keep such a secret but it was the only way. Some things though... they could be easily discussed.

       "But nor has the Ministry retracted their laws," Sirius said with a wry smile, reading what Lupin hadn't said.

       "There's that..." "There's something else?" Sirius was surprised but he caught an echo of laughter from the shadows and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

       "You know me too well. There is... But I can't speak of it. I don't know enough... and..."

       "It's okay. I always knew there was more to werewolves than you were telling us. Tell me when you are able."

       Remus gulped. "That might be too late but whatever happens, I know the path I will follow."

       "It's that bad?"

       Lupin nodded. "It's that close. If the Ministry doesn't do something soon, and I mean within the next few weeks, I think a lot of werewolves will side with the Dark Lord out of frustration."

       "That would be a disaster."

       "I know."

       "There's nothing in this new... thing?"

       "Not yet. It's promising... But it's going to have to be powerful. And if it really is an alternative, it's going to have to come quick. Seventeen years ago we were managing to stall the Dark Lord. Right now, I don't think we can. The werewolves have got You-Know-Who if we don't support him, but equally, that bastard's got us if we don't show our support soon enough."

       "It's not going to be easy."

       "No," Remus' voice was sad. He looked over to Sirius with a wane smile. "I know where I stand though."

       Black eyes closed briefly as he hid a shiver at the timbre of his friend's voice. That note was not something he needed to hear. The sun suddenly seemed cold.

       "How has Harry been?" the werewolf asked, changing the subject.

       Sirius smiled. "Good. Better than good."

       "Truly?"

       "There have been bad times, but..." Sirius sighed. "He's grown up," he finished. "He's no longer the little Prongsy we knew."

       The werewolf sighed but it was a sound that showed happiness. "James would be proud?"

       "Exceedingly. He's become his own man," Sirius skirted around the truth. "I don't even think Dumbledore appreciates how much Harry has matured."

       "Oh?"

       "Let's just say, that when it comes to battle, he's going to be turning heads."

       Remus chuckled. "Let me guess, he'll do what he has said he's going to do but it is going to be on his terms?"

       "Yeap."

       "He's so like his father."

       "To a point. Remus, don't... Don't make the same assumptions Albus has; that the world has. Harry is his own man. He is not his father. He will make his own decisions and live with the consequences. And so help us, we've put him in the position where we are going to have to live with the consequences as well."

       Lupin's eyes narrowed at the serious note coming from his friend. "Now, there is something you're not telling me," he said, no trace of joviality in his voice.

       Sirius nodded. "Yes. I want to tell you, Remus, god knows I want to but I can't. Not yet, not now but I can warn you. Harry is not James and he is no longer a child."

       "He has never been a child," Lupin interjected gently.

       Sirius nodded, black eyes fierce. "Remember this, please. Just don't assume that what you are seeing, is what you are really going to get with Harry. He's been pushed and pulled, and forced into a concept. When that breaks... I don't want to see you get hurt."

       "I'll be careful," Remus said before he smiled. "Besides, the last two Marauders really should stick together... I'm staying with you." Remus suppressed a gasp when he realised what he had said and how Sirius would view it... He hadn’t meant to say that... He wanted it... but...

       Black eyes snapped wide at what he was hearing before a sly smile crossed his face. He'd thought that they had lost all hope in the past and he had resigned himself to just being friends... but if Remus was prepared to try again... "I'd... I'd like that," Sirius whispered, his voice thick.

       Lupin lay back on the grass, letting his hand steal over to take Sirius'. "We'll just take it slow."

       Brown eyes closed as he let himself relax, enjoying the feel of the smaller, warm hand within his own. It had been too long, and it appeared that they had both resigned themselves to something neither wanted. It was funny how just a few words could change everything. They both had secrets and were both dancing around the edges of them, trying to protect the other.

       He never meant to say he'd stay. Werewolves learnt early that such words only lead to betrayal.

       Sirius had left him before...

       No... That wasn't true... No matter what it had felt like.

       Peter had betrayed them all. Sirius had never left him, never wanted to leave him.

       He never meant to say he'd stay... Brown eyes opened and looked up at the sky as Sirius squeezed his hand.

       Somehow, he didn't think Sirius was going to let him go.

       He smiled.

       He could live with that and maybe this time it would be okay.

===

       Harry walked through the corridors slowly. It was very peaceful. It was very quiet.

       It was so frustrating! There was nothing happening.

       Classes had finished, and the students had gone. He'd said his good byes to Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the other Weasleys at the station as they'd left with the promise that he would see them over the summer... Or if he couldn't see them he would write.

       In a week or so, Dumbledore had scheduled his OWLs to be held in a week and after that, depending on how he went, he'd have private tutoring to make sure he could fight the Dark Lord. With the recent attack people were even more on edge as everyone tried to figure out what Voldemort was doing.

       Hermione had left him with all her notes to help him study but she'd made him promise to give them back immediately after his OWLs, claiming that she needed them for her summer study.

       Humph! ‘Summer study’... This from a girl who'd probably equalled all previous OWL high scores...

       Ron had left him with a far more useful gift, a whole stack of Honeydukes toffee accompanied by a small promissory note from his Mother that she would send him provisions at regular intervals.

       He couldn't help a small smile. It was like she believed that no one ever feed him! But it was nice to know that some people still cared.

       Blaise and Millicent were returning next week to do their OWLs as well. Unfortunately they both came from pureblood families who had in the past believed in having more than one child so custody of them had fallen rather simply to the first available Aunt or Uncle. It was slightly disappointing but it did offer a new range of alternatives.

       He hadn't missed the glances Dumbledore had been giving him at meal times. With no students, the still remaining staff and guests ate in a smaller room near the Great Hall. It was much more personal and Harry grinned as he realised it was probably the Staff Common Room with a bit of extra furniture. Oh... the Twins would love this knowledge... Pity they'd graduated.

       Still, the old wizard had been looking at him questioningly and Harry knew it was to see if he'd speak about those who raped him at Hogwarts. The man was looking for an excuse to expel them.

       "It's too late," he whispered. "It's too little, too late."

       Albus hadn't known what happened to him at the Dursleys, he knew that, he accepted that. And there was no way for him to know. Vernon had been careful, Heprah had been paranoid and Xeoaph's charm had been flawless. But the events of this year... The Headmaster had had options then. He'd just not used them. He could have done nothing about the Dark Lord's attack but when Blaise and Millicent had attacked, the Headmaster could have done something more than waited until he awoke. There were charms... The two had been careful, true, they had cleaned up after themselves but against a wizard of Dumbledore's power even their aura's would have been enough to give them away. There were some things the Headmaster would have needed him awake to perform, but there were others that could have been done independently of him, and Albus had done nothing.

       It still would have been too late, but he wouldn't now feel insulted by the attempts he was making, the half veiled and encouraging glances of pity, a few softly voiced sentences trying to awkwardly broach the subject.

       He wasn't going to condemn Blaise and Millicent even though his old reason - that the Dark Lord would attack them like the Muggles - was now invalid. He knew, but Dumbledore didn't, that it didn't matter that Voldemort knew who had hurt him, the Dark Lord had given them to him, and he wasn't about to let them get away, even though he could chase them down where ever they ran. Emerald eyes narrowed. He needed them. Both Blaise and Millicent still had their roles to play and he needed them here. Neither would appreciate their role; but they had forfeited all rights, even the common courtesy he would usually give a foe...

       Harry shook his head... That thought was definitely one from the shadows. With a little smile he dismissed it. Their rules of engagement had served them well, there was no reason those rules couldn't serve him.

       "Argh!" Harry cried. "I don't want to do classes!" He sighed... He'd have to do some, since they'd want to at least confirm his OWL results. But perhaps he could shorten the time if he showed himself proficient.

       The shadows were off seeing to his earlier instructions to seduce or otherwise entice various factions to his side. There were one or two around him. They were always there but they were just watching him, ensuring that he remained safe. There was no need for them to speak. That magic, his heritage, wasn't a problem though. He already knew how to control the shadows so he didn't need interaction with them at the moment, it was the other magic that he had needed to practice with. Harry looked around and saw what he needed.

       :Is the classroom empty?: He asked.

       His answer came in a general feeling of agreement. After a quick inspection of the hallway, he slipped inside, closing the door firmly. All Hogwarts classrooms had shields, reinforcing them against any charm. It would be perfect if something went wrong...

       "What to practice?" He mused in jest. There was really only one thing he wanted to perfect quickly. He was almost positive that for all the knowledge his beloved had given him, he would be able to use it when called to, except the animagus transformation.

       That was because the charm was unique for everyone.

       Sirius turned into a dog. His father into a stag. His beloved transformed into the true serpent king... He shivered in pleasure momentarily, remembering the ruby gaze.

       He turned into... Well... that was the first problem, he didn't know.

       Harry sat cross legged on one of the desks as he considered what he knew about the animagus transformation.

       It was a high level transfiguration. Any first year wizard could transfigure something external to them... _Well, at least partially transfigure something,_ Harry thought with a smile as he recalled some of their first transfiguration efforts.

       It was an internal transfiguration and somehow no matter what you changed into you had to retain enough of yourself to change back... or to even want to change back. The Quintapeds - Hairy MacBoons - were supposedly evidence enough of that problem. And some wizards never even got that far. The fear of losing human form was instinctual, and they simply could not transform.

       Then there was the fact that it was a transfiguration of a living being. It was easy enough to give something living the appearance of another living creature since you weren't actually changing anything, but the animagus transfiguration required that you change everything. External and internal organs, bones, skin, everything. It wasn't so bad if the animal you were changing into had some similarities with a human. Between all mammals for example, their internal organs worked in pretty much the same way and so you could concentrate on the change of shape. But for some creatures you actually had to recreate entirely new systems.

       The Serpent Lord... the basilisk... While his beloved did possess the eyes and poison of a basilisk in human form, the functionality of that human form needed to be changed when he changed. And if he hadn't been the Serpent Lord, then that would make the change all the more difficult.

       Harry sighed. Internal, living being transfiguration. Yeap... it was the hardest. That's why Dumbledore wanted to train him in it, not so much for the transformation itself, but for the additional knowledge he would have to gain to master the transformation.

       But he already knew the extra knowledge. The only thing that remained was the transformation.

       Except he didn't know what he transformed into... Well... he knew it was unique and he knew it was conspicuous. Other than that he had no other details.

       "Nothing for it but to try," Harry said with a little laugh as he slid off the desk. You could almost say that was his motto. He walked to the front of the classroom where there was an open space.

       Harry closed his eyes, tilting his head upwards as he cleared his mind. With a deep breath he recalled the words for the charm. While it was a transfiguration, it was also a charm. With a practiced ease he grabbed at his power, willing the magic to flow through his body as he said the words, focusing the power inwards.

       Harry gasped as he pitched forward, the air catching in his upper nasal regions painfully. But that pain was tiny compared to the rest of his body. He coughed and spat blood, desperately trying not to scream. Every cell seemed to be splitting apart. His back was in agony and it felt like it was being shredded. The pain of the cruciatus curse was easy compared to this. His magic lines were burning and his mind felt raw.

       He fell to the ground, resulting in a small splash as he hit the blood that had pooled there. The wounds on his back weren't just imaginary. Harry tried to curl up to avoid the pain but it was coming from everywhere. He desperately grabbed at the energy he had sent through his body but it did no good, even once he had managed to pull his power back. His whole mind was bruised and instinctually he reached out for help, coughing up blood as everything went black.

===

       Sirius lay back on the grass. It was such a nice day and Remus' little slip of the tongue just made it perfect.

       They'd been moving together in the past but he would have understood that if, after fourteen years of separation when he'd been in Azkaban, Lupin had moved on. He'd been grateful that the werewolf was still willing to be his friend but this was so much better.

       'We'll just take it slow,' he replayed the words through his head. It would be enough.

       He knew Harry wouldn't begrudge him this...

       _Harry?_

       The sun suddenly seemed cold.

       Sirius frowned... there was something wrong, he could feel it. "...harry..?" he whispered, sitting up.

       "Sirius?" Remus questioned.

       "Something's wrong," he said, his eyes wide as he looked back at the castle. He trembled.

       There was a pulse of darkness and Sirius received a vision of Harry. "No!" he gasped involuntarily. His godson was unconscious, lying in his own blood, gasping for breath. :Where?: He snarled at the shadows, already running for the castle, aware that Remus was following him.

       He loved the werewolf, he truly did, but his godson was his life.

       The shadows didn't answer him but they did guide him as he careened through the corridors. Harry had been in a class room but there were so many class rooms.

       Sirius was gasping himself when he broke through the door of the room, skidding to a halt just in front of Harry. The shadows had gathered around their Master, staunching the blood flow as they flickered around him. They didn't seem worried. Sirius frowned as he sensed that and wondered at the incongruence of the situation. He would have to question them later. For now, Harry needed to see Madam Promfrey.

       After a quick initial examination, in which he confirmed that most of the wounds had been healed and that it would be safe to pick his Godson up, Sirius scooped Harry into his arms, ignoring the blood that his robes adsorbed liberally.

       Remus skidded to a halt at the door then gasped when he saw what had happened.

       "He was attacked?" The werewolf leapt to the obvious conclusion.

       "In a manner," Sirius responded, listening to the shadows whisper. "Let's get him to Madam Promfrey."

===

       Dumbledore sat at his desk. He wasn't really paying attention to the paperwork in front of him as he thought about the situation. It was only end of year paperwork anyway and if the situation with Tom wasn't resolved it wouldn't mean a thing. He would do it, he just needed to think about this for now.

       With a sigh he placed his quill in its holder, leaning back to look up at the ceiling. It was ornate, the patterns were soothing. He didn't know which Headmaster had installed it but he traced the patterns out with his eyes. It helped him to think.

       Tom had been attacking. That much was easy. What was not easy was how they could retaliate.

       The dark forces had always had the advantage in this manner. They had no, or very few set bases which could be attacked, while the forces of light had to defend all their infrastructure and buildings. It was frustrating but it was the way it had always been.

       He supposed he could pressure Severus into revealing the location of the Dark Lord's fortress but in the long run such a thing would not be beneficial. Tom would just move to another place. This way, if they needed to he could still make a dedicated frontal assault with the Order.

       For the moment though he needed to determine some way of fighting. When the students returned, they'd be checking all of them for the Dark Mark, that went without question but it still left all summer. And when the Ministry came to the Order, he needed to have some suggestions on what to do.

       There was only one way he could see to combat Tom. They could hunt for Death Eaters, and everyone they ferreted out was a small victory, but for good morale. They could not afford many more battles as the one just past. By the time they knew about it, it had been too late. The public was beginning to worry. And a worried public was a scared public, and when scared, they were... well... stupid.

       Those who would usually resist, would give into the Dark Lord, in an effort to remain safe. They did not see that turning to the dark was not going to work; it was not going to keep them safe.

       The Order and the Ministry had to fight that fear, and quickly. It could be done. They just needed a few victories. But for that they needed to intercept the Death Eaters mid attack... and without a ranking spy on the inside that wasn't going to work...

       Severus was good, but the Dark Lord knew he was spying. Dumbledore guessed Tom was keeping him alive because he sensed he could use the potion master further.

       Albus shook his head... At the moment, they had no way of getting a spy into the Dark Lord's inner circle. Right now, as useful as Lucius' Rebellion had been, it had put Tom on the alert. He would not be trusting many, if any of his servants. They were probably marshalled just before the attack. None would have had knowledge of what was coming.

       They could still deal with that though... They just had to get there faster. And that meant they had to do two things: one, improve communication lines so that no outpost or building could be attacked without a central headquarters knowing, and two, they had to have a task force ready and waiting to respond to the attacks, whenever they came...

       But...

       "We don't have the people..." Dumbledore whispered... Right at the minute they didn't have enough people of a high enough skill to stand any chance against the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters. They had enough... but not enough to pull together to make any kind of fighting force. They had to remain where they were. They were needed where they were.

       "I do though."

       Dumbledore started at the soft voice, grabbing his wand as he looked back towards the door.

       "You..."

       "You don't have enough people... Oh you will, in time... but right at the moment, you don't and that is where you will lose."

       Never let it be said that Dumbledore could not recover quickly from surprise. Indeed, so controlled was he that often he never even showed surprise. "So what do you suggest?" He asked urbanely.

       "An alliance."

       "A large suggestion."

       The being sat down and smiled at the ancient wizard, white teeth perfect. "This is a large situation."

       Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't believe we have been formally introduced," he said.

       "Hehe! True, although I did meet you once... many, many years ago."

       "Truly?" Albus asked. "Never mind... I am Albus Dumbledore," he said, introducing himself formally. "The Head of the Order of the Phoenix, Hogwart's Headmaster..."

       "You needn't tell me your ranks. They mean nothing to me. I am Xeoaph Casitial, elder vampire."

       "And you want to ally with us?"

       "Want? No. Need? Yes."

       "Why? You and your kind have never shown any interest in our battles before."

       "Because your battles have never had the ability to affect us before."

       Dumbledore's eyes narrowed dangerously as Fawkes trilled.

       Xeoaph sighed as he heard the threat in the phoenix's song. "The Dark Lord Voldemort is not a Dark Lord, he is _the_ Dark Lord. He makes Grindlewald look like he wasn't even trying."

       "Tom..." Dumbledore paused, seeking the right phrasing. "Tom is very strong," he admitted. "But there has been nothing that makes him different from the others..."

       "You don't truly believe that, do you?" The vampire asked with a scornful laugh in his voice.

       "So what do you see?" the ancient wizard asked.

       "I see the shadows obeying him."

       "That's not possible."

       "I have felt their power searing through me. I have seen their servants answering his call. How else can you attribute that ability to your Lord Voldemort, unless he is the true Dark Lord?"

       "The shadows are the power of Gryffindor," Dumbledore objected. "And the Heir of Gryffindor lies with me."

       "The shadows might be his power, but they aren't obeying him."

       "They will in time."

       "Time you don't have."

       Albus was silent. He didn't want this but it would help enormously, and they could use it as an opportunity to look inside vampire society, to truly see what it was like. "Alliance, huh? Until what is achieved?"

       "Until the Dark Lord is defeated. I thought my support of Malfoy would have made that clear."

       Dumbledore smiled. "I wondered about that... I was curious as to what Lucius had paid you."

       It was Xeoaph's turn to smile. "No payment... not yet... I will extract it from his line in time."

       "Yes... well, I doubt you will be able to get it from him."

       "True."

       "After Tom is destroyed, what then?"

       "Ah, you were never one to neglect the future," Xeoaph snorted happily. "After that we continue the way we were. You wizards will try to destroy us, and we will continue to feed."

       Dumbledore nodded. He hadn't really expected any other answer.

       Xeoaph growled. "Dumbledore," he spoke crisply, firmly. "I want Voldemort dead. I want him dead more than I've ever wanted any human dead before. Normally this wouldn't be a problem for me, I'd kill them, drain their blood and throw the body away. His power makes that a little difficult, the shadows make it impossible. I am so concerned because he not only has the power to dominate your society but to destroy mine. It would take longer, true, but with the power of the shadows, our eventual fall would be assured. This is for us, a pre-emptive strike, nothing more. I don't care about wizards, I never will. I care about my children and for that I will stand beside you until he is dead."

       "And you can't go to the Ministry."

       "True. The Order will have to broach our alliance to them."

       The old wizard looked around his office. The paintings were nodding slightly. This was an unusual situation and even though they didn't know exactly what was happening, the previous Headmasters knew enough from what they could determine about the world, enough that they agreed with the Vampire's suggestion. Fawkes' burning eyes were narrowed and the phoenix was looking at Xeoaph carefully, his magical eyes examining every inch of the Vampire Elder as he seemed to measure something. Finally he spread his wings, small motes of flame falling from them before he trilled once again.

       "All right," Dumbledore said, holding out his hand as he put his wand down, slipping it back inside his purple robes. "An alliance."

       The Elder Vampire reached out, pale blue eyes meeting twinkling blue. "An alliance, until the Dark Lord Voldemort is dead."

       "Yes," Albus smiled. "Sherbet Lemon?" he offered his guest.

       The offer triggered an odd memory. "You're still addicted to those things?"

       "They are..."

       "Albus..!" The shout echoed up the stairs, and the sound of running feet followed it. "Albus!" Remus yelled as he entered the room.

       Brown eyes swept around the office at the odd scent and the wand was drawn in an instant as Lupin snarled, werewolf blood in him tingling at the being sitting there calmly. "What is he doing here?" He snarled.

       "I could ask the same of you, dog," Xeoaph responded, lengthening his nails as his eyes glowed with power.

       Vampires and wizards did not get along but Vampires and werewolves usually killed each other on sight.

       "Both of you calm down!" Dumbledore snapped, flicking his wand through the motions of a containment charm. "Remus, Xeoaph is my guest. Xeoaph, Remus is a trusted member of the Order."

       The vampire snorted before he turned away, dismissing Remus with an obviously superior glance.

       "Remus, what did you come for?" Albus asked pointedly.

       Lupin growled again, containing the werewolf within him as he slowly lowered his wand. "Harry," he said. "Harry's been attacked."

       Blue eyes snapped wide. "Here?" the Headmaster asked disbelievingly.

       "Yes. Perhaps you should ask the vampire to see if he knows anything."

       "I and my kind have done nothing to Mr Potter," Xeoaph snarled. "Why would I or my kind want to destroy the one who can kill the Dark Lord?"

       "Perhaps because you have now allied with him?"

       "I always knew werewolves were stupid," the elder vampire said, his eyes burning. "You think after I backed Lucius the Dark Lord will allow me to ally with him..? Oh, I forgot... werewolves don't think."

       Remus growled again and Dumbledore sighed, once more raising his wand.

       "Both of you," he said with the full power of his voice, invoking every nuance he could. "Enough!"

       "Fine," Remus turned away. "Dumbledore," he added coldly. "You should know this isn't going to sit well with the werewolves."

       "A threat?"

       "A statement of fact. Come, Harry is with Madam Promfrey." Remus began back down the steps, shaking his head. They might never have said the word ally but he could already see that the deal had been made. Dumbledore had to have known allying with the vampires was not a way to get the werewolves on side.

       Did everyone truly think so little of them?

       Brown eyes narrowed, suddenly the new offer was seeming better and better... He had to know more.

       Dumbledore turned back the vampire. It was obvious he was going to need to speak with the Ministry soon if they wanted to have any hope of keeping the werewolves on side. Despite enmity between vampires and werewolves, they would need both to win and they couldn't be seen to be treating one ally better than another. Remus had spoken the truth. "I must attend to this," he said softly.

       "Yes, Mr Potter is very important."

       "Why didn't... why didn't you take him when Heprah gave you the chance?"

       "No matter what you might think," Xeoaph said as he rose. "We don't take children."

       Dumbledore looked back at him sceptically. "I have seen the memory, you know. You offered it to Heprah."

       The vampire elder sighed. "As much as I might have liked to have taken young Harry Potter as my own, I am aware of the trouble that would have caused me."

       They began walking through the corridors, heading towards the infirmary. "It's never as simple as you wizards think it is to make a vampire."

       "I thought it was relatively easy."

       "The process is," Xeoaph said clinically. "Selecting who will and will not become a vampire is difficult. We live forever, human, we cannot afford to have those who are unsuitable within our ranks."

       "Ah," the Headmaster said delicately, letting the matter drop. Nothing had come of it, after all, except for one charm the Dark Lord had broken.

       As they entered the Infirmary, Xeoaph paused, pale blue eyes opening wide. "Of course," he murmured, looking at the unconscious boy on the bed, "it would have been worth the trouble."

       If Harry had been beautiful as a child not yet eleven, he was now stunning. The vampire sighed appreciatively. Pale, flawless skin, jet silky hair and cherry lips. A small lithe body with enviable muscle tone. For a being who would be and who possibly already was one of the most powerful in this world, his body seemed too small but it was unimaginably beautiful. Even the tattoo on his chest seemed there to enhance his beauty.

       "Definitely worth the trouble," Xeoaph sighed again as he made a small gesture at the large black dog that was slowly uncoiling from its guarding position at the foot of the bed, hackles raised, teeth bared.

       He frowned as the slight jolt of power was repulsed by the dog. All creatures of the night were bound to obey him. He repeated the gesture as the dog growled, black eyes somehow burning.

       "Can't control a dog?" Lupin laughed mockingly, laying one hand on Sirius, bending close to whisper in his canine ear, "Dumbledore wants him here."

       Xeoaph watched with interest as the dog turned to growl at the Headmaster. It was quite obviously not a normal animal.

       "The Order will ally with the Vampires," Dumbledore said in a tone that brooked no questions. "There is no choice. You know that."

       Through it all, Madam Promfrey continued to work, ignoring the tableau playing out around her.

       The dog lowered its head, glaring up at the ancient wizard. The vampire got the impression it would have moved further but there was a stirring from Harry and the animal's attention was diverted as it turned to its master, as they all turned towards the only one who could fight for them.

 

 


	8. Other Considerations

Weapon  
Chapter 8 Other Considerations

===

       Harry sighed as he regained consciousness, floating in a warmth that signified he was only half awake. He was aware enough to sense things if he tried, but was warm and comfortable and the pain was gone.

       :Master...: the shadows growled at him softly and he could hear their anger.

       :What were you trying to do to yourself?: They asked, but Harry knew they already knew the answer.

       :I just wanted to show that I could do it!: He said before he realised how childish that sounded.

       :We have no doubt that you will do it, but we told you, not yet! Master, as impossible as it sounds, your magic is still growing and for the moment your animagus form is locked by the simple fact that you don't have the power to sustain it.:

       :Then when will I have the power?:

       :When you come of age. You are only fifteen Master. When you come of age your power will mature. Others have gained their animagus form younger, we know Master, but they were simple beings. The power required was nothing. Master, you will eclipse them all.:

       Harry could still hear the anger in their voice as they coddled up to him mentally, scolding but at the same time consuming his radiant light. He could sense though, that while they were angry with him, they were also angry with themselves for not keeping a better watch. They should have known he would try it.

       :I'm sorry,: he said slowly. :I will wait until then.:

       :You will be ready by then,: they assured him.

       Harry nodded mentally, eyes downcast. Their scolding didn't hurt, but the stupidity he felt did. Everything could be undone because he was stupid today. That was chastisement enough.

       They let him wait a few minutes before they flicked around him again, chuckling... Their anger was seemingly gone. :It's alright Master, we can use this, it's all part of the game but for now sense who is present, Master,: they instructed knowingly.

       Emerald eyes looked around mentally as Harry pushed his senses out.

       Sirius was present and he could smell his Godfathers hair, so he was in his animagus form. Madam Promfrey was present... that explained why there was no pain. He could smell the sharp medicinal tang on her. There was another, almost animalistic smell there... Like his Godfather but different, more mature... Harry held back the smile as he realised Remus was there. Sirius would be happy. There were two more scents. One presence felt like fire and he caught the slightest odour of burning lemon... Dumbledore. Only Fawkes smelt like a clear burning fire and only the Headmaster smelt like a burnt lemon sherbet.

       And the other... it was vaguely familiar. He had smelt it before but he couldn't really place it. It was sweet, blood... but there was power there and it was old. He extended his magical senses, almost like feelers, careful to make sure that no one noticed. While he could explain how he could do this he didn't really want them to know that he could.

       Definitely blood. There was blood all over this presence. And it was old... Older than Dumbledore... by... centuries?

       :Vampire?: He asked silently.

       :Xeoaph,: they grinned.

       :What's he doing here?:

       :He's allying himself with the Order to fight the Dark Lord.:

       He held back the snarl, instinctually moving to protect his beloved.

       :It's alright, Master, we thought we'd attack him now.:

       Harry chuckled as he saw the plan and moaned theatrically as they surged into being.

       Xeoaph lived in an almost constant state of alertness and it was rare that anyone, even one of his children could catch him unawares but as their master's emerald eyes blinked open the shadows moved, slamming the ancient vampire up against the wall. The vampires startled cry hung in the air as he looked down at the boy who wielded the power of shadow.

       Snuffles yipped happily and jumped up licking at Harry's face. He too knew the plan. When the shadows had accepted Harry as their Master and had revived him from Malfoy Jn's killing curse, he too had been changed and now his connection to them could not be stopped, unless they chose.

       Remus turned to look at the vampire through narrowed eyes, one eyebrow raised. He had the honour of the werewolves to maintain in front of the vampire and for that he had to remain calm and collected no matter what happened. It was not a difficult act.

       Madam Promfrey just sat back in astonishment blinking as her eyes refused to focus on the vampires restraints.

       Dumbledore simply looked slightly amused as Harry pushed at Snuffles, coaxing the dog to back up as he sat up slowly. Fawkes had been right, Harry did indeed have more knowledge and control of the shadows than they thought, and that he had revealed.

       "It's okay, Snuffles, it's okay," Harry murmured, patting the soft fur on the canine head and pulling gently at Sirius' ears. With a frown he looked up at the vampire, emerald orbs meeting pale blue with a shock of recognition. "I know you," Harry whispered.

       "You do indeed child," the vampire said without fear.

       Harry cocked his head as if listening to something and the shadows skittered carefully but still did not release Xeoaph.

       "You're the one who made me forget."

       Xeoaph smiled. "I did."

       Harry nodded and the shadows withdrew, leaving the vampire to fall. He landed gracefully and made no attempt to move closer.

       "Allies?" Harry asked, looking towards Dumbledore.

       "Yes," the Headmaster said easily.

       "Ah," Harry said still patting Sirius. "Sorry about that," he apologised to the vampire. "They're kind of protective."

       Xeoaph waved the apology away.

       "Do you want to tell us what happened?"

       Harry looked down at the sheets. "I was attacked."

       "We know that. By what?"

       "By the shadows," Harry answered softly with their prompting.

       "But they obey you," Xeoaph objected.

       "Some of them do."

       "What?"

       "Only some of them do," Harry repeated. The shadows purred around him, prompting his answers as they danced. It was all a game but it was game they had played for centuries and they intended to win. They always won.

       Harry sighed, swallowing as he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes pinched.

       "Professor Dumbledore... I'm... I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I already knew about the power of Gryffindor. Some of it anyway," Harry began. "I know what they can do and I know what I am to them. But not all of them obey me.

       "After so many centuries they have become fractured... some obey me, other's obey the Dark Lord because he has offered them enough sacrifices, enough light that they will obey him.

       "They helped him against Malfoy... I don't know what he paid them... I don't want to know," Harry swallowed hard in an artful impression of disgust as the shadows laughed.

       Playing with the truth was fun.

       "It was the one's who obey Voldemort that attacked me but they are mine now. If they touch me, then they have no choice." He grinned. "The one's who are mine helped me."

       Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "So to take the one's the Dark Lord has..?"

       "I just have to see them," Harry said. "Then, they will have to obey me."

       "Is there any way we can stop them attacking you?" Remus asked.

       "No," Harry shook his head. "But there aren't that many of them who are loyal to Voldemort because he can't give them exactly what they need. With Gryffindor's blood... I don't even know what it is that I give them but it is what they need."

       :We will stop them,: the shadows whispered to all present.

       "They can talk?" Albus' eyes opened wide.

       :We can talk, we can feel, we can act.:

       "But the histories..."

       The shadows laughed... :Are not entirely accurate,: they finished. :We will protect our Master from those few of us who obey the Dark Lord, you must protect him from all others,: they instructed coldly as they faded.

       The Headmaster nodded. "It will be done," he murmured considering this new implication. He had always assumed that the shadows were just that, shadow. Power, yes but not conscious, not able to act on their own. This was... there was no doubt this was an interesting development but it was worrying. They would now need to determine the extent to which Harry could control his heritage. "Harry, rest now." The ancient wizard turned towards Xeoaph. "For the moment, I believe the two of us need to plan."

===

       Severus sat back. The room was both stiflingly hot and brilliantly illuminated as he considered what he had seen. He was still at Hogwarts. Usually at this time of year, he had already finished up and returned to the Snape Manor but there had been complications with the paperwork and he was sure that as soon as he got back, and removed all the anti dust charms, Dumbledore would call him back and he'd just have to recast everything before leaving again for the Summer. No... better just to delay going back.

       Besides there were too many shadows and Dark Arts items there that he just hadn't had the time to remove. There were too many distractions. It also gave him a reason not to go to the Dark Lord should he call and that was a whole other issue he didn't want to think about now.

       Not with everything else.

       They were back...

       They'd left him alone for twenty years but now they were back. They skittered at the edge of his vision, murmured softly to him at night and sidled up to him comfortingly. He couldn't see or hear them properly, not like he'd been able to but the fact that they'd chosen now, of all times to return was not reassuring.

       Twenty years ago he'd woken up from the dream, he'd seen the Dark Lord for what he truly was - a manipulative, murdering wizard who cared nothing for the future or his followers - and then he'd tried to break free. He'd gone to Dumbledore in agony and had become a spy, he had brewed so many cleansing potions and had fought so hard to return to the light. It had been difficult, and it had hurt like nothing else, it nearly killed him but he had accepted Fawkes' blessing and been admitted into the Order.

       And he'd turned away from them.

       They'd tempted him then... And it had been so hard to resist. They'd shown him everything he wanted and he knew they had the power to fulfil their temptations. That was why they were so addictive, so dangerous. Anyone could offer you the illusion of what you wanted, very few could grant it in reality.

       It had been Fawkes' blessing that had finally driven them away. They couldn't stand the light that was the phoenix but now they were back, and while they weren't as clear as before, yet, they seemed stronger, more confident. They seemed sure that it was only a matter of time.

       No!

       He had proven his ability to ignore them once. He would continue to ignore them. Besides, his desires had changed, and he doubted they could fulfil them now. No-one could fulfil them now.

       Peace was not something he'd know.

       Not just because of the war but because of what he'd seen, because of what he knew and because now he was sure that what he had believed to be true, what Dumbledore believed to be true was an illusion.

       Harry Potter had sided with the Dark Lord.

       There was no proof, not even a whispered rumour. In fact the boy's Initiation into the Order of the Phoenix was direct evidence against that belief; but he knew what he had seen, hidden deep in those emerald eyes, and he knew, somehow, that Potter was against them.

       And that scared him.

       Fifteen years ago, at the height of the Dark Lord's power, when he'd been in danger from both sides, when he'd been struggling to remain sane, when the Light fought the hopeless battle, he hadn't been scared. He'd known that somehow it would work out.

       This time...

       This time he knew nothing.

       No... this time he knew what he had seen. He didn't know how Potter had fooled Fawkes since that was meant to be impossible but somehow the boy had.

       He raked a hand through greasy hair. With everything that had happened - and yes, he knew what had happened while the child was with the Muggles and he knew of the Dark Lord's affection - he supposed he couldn't really blame Potter. They placed the expectation on him, they gave him the power, they didn't ask his loyalties and so they had no right to be surprised... They would be though. They just assumed he was theirs.

       Heh! He would have assumed the same if he hadn't seen those eyes.

       The Dark Lord had shown his usual brutal self with his gift and while the expression had been fleeting, he knew Potter had been expecting it, Potter had been waiting for the day that Bulstrode and Zabini had found out the truth. He knew what was in those packages. He knew what the notes said.

       And he knew who had done it. And an instant later, the expression was gone, replaced by one of innocence, one of surprise and morbid curiosity. An expression that was mirrored throughout the Hall.

       He'd grant that the boy was a superlative actor and he'd grant that in some ways, he had been allowed to learn the truth... But now he wasn't sure what to do.

       He couldn't prove what he knew to Dumbledore and he couldn't approach the Dark Lord. And as demeaning as it would be he couldn't even ask Black about his Godson because the man was either in on the plan or had no idea... Although, he rather thought Black would know.

       He was trapped.

       It was a feeling he didn't like. It was a situation he'd spent the best part of his life trying to avoid but it was the situation he found himself in now.

       "But I am trapped alone," Snape murmured, blinking softly as he looked into the fire.

       That was a situation he was familiar with.

       He nodded. It really wasn't that difficult, not once he thought about it. He had always been alone. He had always followed his own goals.

       Nothing had changed.

       All that had changed was his certainty of the outcome. And now all he needed to do was to make sure both sides... or was that all three sides... viewed him as a friend.

       Easier said than done. He'd have to walk a fine line... one so fine he wasn't sure it existed.

       Dumbledore wasn't a complete fool. Voldemort was paranoid. And Potter...

       It would be a cold day in hell before the boy viewed him as an ally.

       That could be a problem.

       The boy was still a student though... he hadn't even come of age. He would accede to the Dark Lord...

       He didn't know what deal they might have made. He didn't know how Harry had come to an agreement with the Dark Lord, he didn't want to know. It was always possible though that the Dark Lord had destroyed Potter and the annoying brat spawned of James was now nothing more than a puppet for the Dark Lord. A perfect spy...

       One they had embraced as their own... Harry Potter...

       If he was only a puppet then the Dark Lord had created well...

       No, that was one thing that wouldn't have gotten past Fawkes, not even with the sacrificial serpent there to distract attention. This was something Potter had chosen of his own free will.

       This whole situation was caused by Potter...

       This could be a problem.

===

       Narcissa sat in the drawing room. The light from the sun flooded in giving her sculptures an ethereal air. She wasn't watching though. She couldn't watch. Usually she would. Usually she liked just watching the light hit the sculptures she had gathered over the years, as the water they were in reflect the light. It was calming, it was joyful and it reminded her of the light she saw when she used her tenshi form.

       She could still remember his words, words she wasn't meant to hear. 'Good-bye child. If you fight him, do not rely on your blood.'

       He had been her last hope but he refused...

       _No..._ she shook her head... _This isn't the end. I'm not going to lose him!_

       She had lost her husband. It was painful but she would not lose her son.

       "Draco!"

       The magic of the manor would convey her voice to her son. If he would not help, then she would have to make the arrangements.

       She was not going to lose her son as well, not to this petty Dark Lord.

       "Mother?" His voice was soft.

       Narcissa smiled as she looked over at his blond elegance. He had inherited his father's looks. Pale blond hair and pale, almost translucent skin, and startling grey eyes. High cheek bones formed the base of a seemingly fragile but handsome face. Her son wasn't fully a man yet, but he was beginning to fill out and she could see the grace and handsomeness he would possess, from both sides of his blood.

       "Come in, come in," she motioned him close, patting the divan beside her to indicate where he should sit.

       "Mother," Draco smiled and she was pleased to see that he looked less tense. "You wanted to see me."

       "I did."

       After Draco had seated himself, she rose, restless and moved to the windows, looking out at the perfectly manicured estate gardens. Like everything about the Malfoy Estate they were beautiful, ordered. That was perhaps their weakness, there was nothing spontaneous there. But that was the way of magic, the way of life.

       What humans saw as coincidence, as random events were all part of a larger pattern, one their minds could not grasp and so they called it fate.

       There was no such thing.

       There was power. There was light. There was dark. There was good. And there was evil.

       There was no fate. There was no destiny. Those were created of the other five.

       There was magic and implicit in the ability to use magic was the ability to control what muggles called destiny. And it was that now, she would teach Draco the true extent of his magical abilities.

       Then the two of them could plan, for without a plan they could not defeat the Dark Lord. And her son was... destined - Narcissa hid a smile - through his blood to be superior, to rule. It was his right. He was not a pureblood, no matter what he believed, he was more, through her and because of that heritage... that was all he needed.

       And no half Muggle Dark Lord was going to take that away.

       Only one with the blood of a tenshi deserved it all.

       Only her son.

       "Mother?" Draco questioned her quietness.

       Narcissa turned and smiled. "Tell me about magic," she instructed.

       "Huh?"

       She smiled again at his confusion. Her mother had started much the same way with her when explaining this. But it was necessary. "Tell me about magic," Narcissa repeated. "Tell me where it comes from and why a wizard can use it."

       Draco frowned, "But..?"

       "Just tell me."

       There had been a question like that on his OWL. He hadn't been able to answer it. No one in Slytherin had been able to answer it and from what some of the others had heard from the other Houses, no one there had been able to answer it. Mudblood Granger had supposedly been in a foul mood about it for days.

       Magic just was...

       "I don't know."

       "I do."

       "Huh?"

       "I know what magic is. You know as well, you know. It's in your blood, my child because it's in my blood. This is knowledge not known to wizards but only to our kind. Your father does not know, Dumbledore doesn't know, the Dark Lord doesn't know for they do not have our blood."

       "Blood?"

       "You aren't human, my son. It's that simple."

       "What?!" Grey eyes stretched wide in disbelief.

       "It's nice to know you inherited a bit of me," Narcissa chuckled. "That was my reaction as well. You are not human, not completely my son, because I am not human. You are _more_ than human. You share in your very being the origin of magic."

       "You're lying," Draco said, his grey eyes wide as he looked at the woman he thought he knew. He couldn't move. There was something holding him in place.

       "No, I'm not. Let me show you." With a shrug she shed her outer robe and moved her hands to her waist, stripping off her shirt. She liked this blouse and there was no need ruin it. "Look!" Narcissa said forcefully as Draco averted his gaze from her now naked chest. The Dark Mark seemed mocking on her elbow but she ignored it. It had been causing her pain, but not so much that she couldn't deal with it.

       She half closed her eyes as she concentrated, willing her wings into existence. They had healed since Ollivander had disciplined her and she felt them wrap around her, warm and comforting. They were the main thing that marked her as a tenshi. There were other less obvious marks but most focused on the wings.

       Draco gasped when he saw the reality, his grey eyes somehow stretching wider at the proof that she was not human.

       "I am a tenshi."

       "A... a... a tenshi?"

       "Well, a half tenshi."

       Narcissa locked her wings around her, covering her body as she moved to sit back with Draco. He just watched her move. She reached out to take his hand, and brushed it against her wing so that he could feel that it was real. There were other changes, they just weren't so obvious. Her eyesight for example was now so beyond perfect that it defied description. She couldn't see what her mother had seen but she could see so closely that she could see charms move through the air. Her strength was improved and if necessary she could transform further, becoming almost intangible, almost pure magic and thus immune to physical and all but the most powerful magical attacks. Because of her father's blood, she couldn't transform fully, she would always be tied to some physical body but it was enough.

       There were other things... Battle adaptations. Tenshi were the keepers of the peace in their realm but she had never really been able to manifest those, except when extremely stressed. The magically poisoned claws, and fangs and magically hardened skin was not something that came easily to one with human blood for they were pure magic. Right now though, she was going to demonstrate one more ability, the ability to manipulate magic.

       "There are many realms of existence. When humans die, they become what the Muggles call spiritual energy. It isn't spiritual energy though, it's magical energy. It's amazing what they will believe. In their effort to disavow the existence of magic, they allow the existence of the soul, of spirit, never realising that the two are the same - magic is spirit. That what the ghosts you see are, magical energy that isn't quite in the right realm, that's why they are visible here, the interference between the two realms keeps them visible and why when they are ready, they can move on. They can't use magic though, even if they were magical in life because they are not aligned properly in either existence.

       "A tenshi though is a natural inhabitant of that magical plane. And it is in that plane that magic originates... No, magic doesn't originate there, that plane is magic.

       "Magic is after all intangible, brilliant and powerful. It is spiritual, or what the Muggles would call a miracle. All living things are in some way connected to this other realm, the magical realm, that's why sometimes a Muggle can do magic..."

       "I..." Draco gulped, his grey eyes wide. "I never believed Pritchard when he told me..."

       "He told you?" Narcissa was surprised. She would have known if there was another like her.

       "He told me that their family has a legend about all the powerful wizarding families. That we are all descended from... from something more than human and that is why we alone have the right wield power. And that is why we are more powerful. Of course the blood has been diluted through the generations but it is our right to rule and it is why we must strive to keep our blood pure."

       "Pritchard? I believe my father was distantly related to them... I am only a half tenshi, my son, my mother was a pureblood and my father a wizard from the Clan of Slytherin."

       "The Clan of Slytherin? They haven't existed for centuries, Mother!"

       "I know, but I am quite a bit older than I look. It's one of the advantages of tenshi blood. Tenshi's are eternal. As a halfling, I can look forward to an extremely long life, and as for you, my son you will begin to see the effects of your tenshi inheritance soon. Magic, physic, life span, these will all be affected."

       "I'll grow wings?"

       "If you are going to, it won't be for a few years yet," Narcissa smiled. Draco was taking this well. "Tenshi are born with wings, halflings have to grow them later and not all of them do. It makes sense though since I physically would not have been capable of giving birth to you if you had been born with wings. Wings come with maturity, and while you are nearly of age for a Wizard, you are still a child in terms of the tenshi."

       Draco looked faintly sick at the reference before he shook his head slightly, blond hair flicking around him. "Does... did Father know?"

       "No. I... I could never tell him. The Dark Lord does not know either."

       The blond boy nodded his eyes downcast.

       "It... it will be all right my son," Narcissa said soothingly. "I mourn the loss of your Father every day, and I will for the rest of my life however that situation is a travesty of justice which unfortunately we can do nothing to rectify. The travesty that is the Dark Lord though...

       "You are part tenshi, my son, you are part what the original wizards were and so you alone have the right to rule.

       "It is your heritage, it is your right, and it is your blood.

       "I never met Salazar Slytherin but he was a great man. His direct descendant though... You are not quite as directly related, but your blood is purer and that is what will tell in the end over blood polluted by Muggles."

       "Father said he had become weak."

       "He has. But even in his weakness he is formidable. You would not be able to take him on for years. Your power is greater than his, Draco but it will take time for that power to develop, time he will not grant. The Dark Lord is not foolish. I will teach you everything I know, Draco, and that will reduce the time... but we cannot fight him as your Father did. He has too much support.

       "But that does not mean we cannot destroy him. All it means is you cannot take control immediately. There will be a time of chaos."

       "I will not side with Dumbledore," Draco said firmly. He wasn't sure why... but he would not side with the Light, no matter how much of a sham that might be on his part. He could not go to Dumbledore.

       "I do not want you to," Narcissa reassured him gently. "That would not serve our purpose. You will though, maintain that you are not loyal to either side. You are loyal only to yourself."

       He nodded.

       "Good. Then this summer we will begin and when you return to Hogwarts you will have the basis upon which you can build, and from which you can bring others to your side. The Dark Lord's actions are not universally accepted, not even with the dark forces and you will be the beacon of hope that they are looking for, the alternative.

       "But that is why, once he is felled, there will be chaos. The more intelligent ones will support you immediately. The others will need time to see what their Dark Lord truly was, a mudblood pretender and to accept the reality he is gone. Those fools will be useful though as we can direct them into the final destruction of the Light."

       With a shrug of her shoulders she ruffled her feathers, pulling her wings back and replacing her blouse as Draco nodded slowly, thinking about what she had said. "My son, you will have it all."

       "And I will give it to you."

===

       Ginny looked up at the ceiling as she flopped back on to her bed. The oak beams and boards hadn't changed. They never changed and their familiar pattern was comforting.

       She needed that.

       It was only a week into the summer holidays and she needed all the comfort she could get. Her eyes glanced towards the window but it was dark outside so there was nothing to see. She didn't need to see though, right now she needed to think.

       She'd already said good night to her family, turning in early so it was unlikely that they would bother her. No. At the moment everyone was waiting for Ron's OWL results or speculating on how the twins had managed to afford the lease in Diagon Alley.

       Right now no one really cared about her.

       Well, that wasn't true. She knew they all cared but this wasn't something she could speak with them about.

       Near the end of semester she'd woken up one morning to find the bond with Harry gone. It wasn't completely gone, she could feel the echo of it, and knew he had kept his word. If it came to it, her life force would be drained to replace his. That wasn't really what she wanted but it was the only protection she could give him.

       Ginny closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, forcing herself to try to see the whole situation as Harry obviously had.

       _Look at the facts. Draw conclusions from there._

       That's what logic dictated but logic was a cold substitute for the heart.

       _Look at the facts,_ she reminded herself.

       She loved him. It hurt but she loved him. She'd always loved him.

       It had been a childish, stupid obsession at first, an infatuation based of nothing more than puppy love and rumour. But then came Ron's first letter home from Hogwarts telling them that the scrawny but messily attractive boy at the station had been the Harry Potter and it had become so much more. It had been fate, obviously that had meant that of all the girls her age, she had actually met their obsession. It had been the confirmation of her love.

       _No, no! Look at the facts!_

       It wasn't fate, it was chance.

       She loved him.

       He loved Him.

       Those were two facts she knew to be true.

       Other facts...

       No one else knew that Harry hadn't been kidnapped but instead had willingly gone to the Dark Lord. No one she knew that she could talk to. Sirius obviously knew but the dog animagus was no in a position where he could talk to her, and he probably didn't even sympathise with her.

       Harry had returned because... Why had Harry returned?

       _Think._

       Because of her..? No...

       Because... Because with Lucius' rebellion the Dark Lord's forces had lost too much ground. Harry had returned because it was the best way to help his beloved. He could be a spy that they would never suspect.

       Ginny nodded, gulping as some of the implications became clear. It was neat now, but when Harry showed his loyalties... that was going to be messy.

       But that didn't help her.

       In the battle for Harry's heart... It hadn't really been a battle. They'd lost, every single girl who had fantasised over Harry had lost... she'd lost.

       Hadn't she?

       That's what Harry had said. He loved the Dark Lord.

       But... He'd said something else... With everything else he'd said she didn't want to cling to it... but maybe that's why he said it. He'd been trying to explain to her, trying not to hurt her... trying to make her see it from his perspective.

       His perspective..?

       It should never have happened!

       No part of Harry should love the man who had killed his parents, who had tried to kill him, who had tortured him, who had hated him, who had pursued him, who had saved him, who had tortured for him, who had killed for him, who had loved him...

       No part of Harry should...

       But he did.

       And he always would.

       "But I love you," Ginny whispered willing the words to enough. "I love you so much...

       "Give me a chance."

       A chance, that's all she wanted and it was more than many... heh... _any_ others would get...

       "That's what he's given me," she said softly wondering why it still hurt.

       Harry had given her the chance. He'd said it himself. 'The possibility exists for me to love you as something more.'

       Something more than a friend.

       He had hurt her. He knew that. It had hurt to take away what she had but he was doing it not because he loved Him but because in the end he loved her, as a friend... not yet a lover...

       Ginny smiled, opening sapphire eyes to look at the ceiling again. "Not yet a lover," she repeated...

       But the possibility was there.

       And she would show him the sweetness of what she could offer. She was not like the others. She wouldn't be dependent on him for everything, she would not just be for show. Harry didn't need a lover who was just for show, he needed a partner, and she would grow to be that partner. Somehow, she'd find something to offer him, something to make him take up the possibility.

       "You can love Him Harry, you can love Him for all time, I don't care, just as long as you let me love you, just as long as you love me."

===

       Remus sighed as he sat down, considering the week. It wasn't so much the week he was considering as the past few days.

       His arrival back at Hogwarts had been standard but Sirius' presence had made it interesting. He had missed the other man and while they were still maintaining separate quarters, taking it slow, he didn't know how long that would continue. They could both be rather impetuous at times...

       Although... they both had secret's to keep now... He knew Sirius wasn't telling him things, just as he wasn't telling Sirius things.

       It still felt good though. It was amazing what one little slip of the tongue could do.

       What followed after hadn't been as good but Harry had always recovered quickly from everything and the attack by the shadows was no different. It probably helped that various other shadows had made themselves conspicuous around their self-proclaimed Master. They were reassuring to everyone, Harry included that they were under control, and they seemed to take delight in making the boy happy. It was childish but he'd once caught them making shadow animals on the curtain in far more detail than any hand could make. He hadn't heard them but from the smile gracing Harry's face, whatever they were saying to accompany the outlandish movements of the 'animals' was amusing. For that alone he was comfortable with them.

       The real problem with the week lay with the vampires.

       He didn't know what Dumbledore was thinking... or not thinking by even entertaining the notion of an alliance.

       He knew the Light needed allies but did they really need those who had traditionally called themselves dark? The Vampires had done them a favour by allying with Lucius, they had ensured that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would not approach them, unlike almost all other Dark Lord's in the past. They had the opportunity to catch the undead between their two forces which would have destroyed many of them. Such a situation was not likely to arise again for centuries.

       But the ancient wizard had greeted the vampire elder like a friend, and from the tone in Albus' voice, it almost seemed like he had been expecting them.

       Did no one think of the werewolves?

       They had served the dark, true, but they had also served the light, and they didn't view all humans - wizard or not - as food. And they were one of the few forces that had actively and continuously hunted the vampires for centuries.

       Werewolves hated vampires. Vampires liked werewolves... as food.

       It was not a well-known fact, most wizards didn't care what a vampire ate, but werewolves were better nourishment for a vampire than a human or even a wizard. The mutagenic toxins in their blood that reacted in the light of the moon when ingested by a vampire acted to stabilise the undead form, stabilise the toxins that were in a vampires blood, the toxins that caused them to be a vampire and were introduced via their blood and bite and a stable form meant less bloodlust, less bloodlust meant less wasted energy which in turn lead to a reduced need to feed.

       Thankfully, that little fact was not known by most vampires and most of them viewed werewolves as a troublesome meal by virtue of their increased strength, even in human form.

       It was something Xeoaph would know though.

       It was something all werewolves knew.

       And it was the reason werewolves and vampires were traditional enemies.

       Trying to make them fight on the same side was not going to work. There was too much history between them.

       The Pack Messenger had shared his outrage as well, and now, if the Ministry accepted Xeoaph's offer, whatever they offered to them was going to have to be impressive before the werewolves would even consider fighting.

       It wasn't just the Vampires though. The Dark Lord had finally made his offer. The Pack Messenger had relayed it, and if Remus didn't know that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was evil beyond all others, he would have been sorely tempted to take it.

       And there was more on this mysterious third offer. Whoever they were, they were aware of the werewolves' reticence and they wanted to talk, face to face to reassure their potential allies of their power, and to discuss any questions that may have arisen. Their offer though, still remained almost too good to be true.

       The Dark Lord wanted them to fight. The Ministry would no doubt want the same. In enticement the Dark Lord offered them acceptance and sacrifices, while the Ministry would probably offer to repeal the unfair laws.

       This new party didn't want them to fight, they only wanted a large, visual show of support in one battle that they nominated, and the public proclamation that the werewolves had sided with neither the Dark Lord or Ministry. Apart from that it wanted them to hold neutral but was prepared to accept that the werewolves were not one homogenous whole and that some would fight for either side. Providing that whoever this party was had their backing at that one nominated battle the werewolves could side with who they liked.

       This third party wanted chaos.

       To entice them into this rather ambiguous position, they were offering sacrifices, victims who could be converted into more werewolves, which would appeal to those who wanted to side with the Dark Lord, and they were offering the eradication of unfair laws, which would appeal to those werewolves who wanted to side with the Ministry but more importantly they were offering power.

       The Pack Messenger said the response to the questions that the Pack had raised had been easy. It had been confident. 'I can give you what the Dark Lord offers, I can give you what the Ministry offers but I can give you more. I can give you access to wolfsbane potion. I will ensure that you are considered human. And I will give you my word in blood.'

       Remus blinked as he considered it. It meant only one thing. I will give you my oath, bound by my blood, so that if you feel I have reneged upon what I have offered, you may take my life.

       It was an archaic offer... but it was attractive. For once they would have someone to blame, someone they could take out their anger on when things never eventuated.

       It was not a pretty emotion, but it was human nature, and they had been betrayed too often. Dark Lord after Dark Lord, Ministry after Ministry, they all conveniently forgot their promises. This oath wouldn't ensure that it wouldn't happen. There were ways of getting around it, but it would give the werewolves a sense of control. That was something they had never been offered before.

       That's why he said he would go to this meeting.

       This new offer was confident. The details it was hinting at were too good to be true and even if nothing eventuated, it might give them the opportunity to stall, or blackmail both the Dark Lord and the Ministry into offering them more. He doubted the Ministry would have any inkling of even the possibility of a third offer, but the Dark Lord might, and if he took it seriously...

       That's what he'd told the Pack Messenger to relay to the other Leaders. Somehow they had to let He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named know that they had another offer, and if he took it seriously, then they could take it seriously... unless further evidence could be presented to them, that the offer was genuine and that it had the ability to eventuate, otherwise they would be better off ignoring its hope completely.

       Still, he would go to the meeting. He wanted to see what type of creature could even think of offering the werewolves a deal to ensure this chaos and he wanted to see for himself if it was all just a dream, a useful but unattainable dream.

       Maybe he should talk to Sirius... properly talk to Sirius...

       Except that would break his word.

       He couldn't do that.

       And then of course, adding to the week, there was the little talk he'd had with Albus after the vampire had left. So many things had been over looked with Harry that he had almost considered it impossible that this could be ignored.

       He understood the reasons for Harry being raised by the Muggles and if he had had a loving family, it would be okay, but he was and had missed out on many of the traditional things wizarding families did. The small traditions, the things they didn't even think about because they saw them from birth. It was one of the things that separated a Muggle born wizard from the others and while the view was elitist, he knew James would never want Harry to be ignorant in that way.

       Besides, for a wizard of Harry's power, the Coming of Age Ceremony was a necessity.

       It wouldn't happen completely on his birthday, but that day would be the day that was pivotal. His power would fully awaken. It was the traditional time for it. And on that day he would need to be protected, shielded. For most wizards or witches it was just another day, but for Harry...

       James had said that his Coming of Age Ceremony had been interesting and he had been shielded by the strongest shields in the Potter estate... Remus didn't even want to think what Harry's was going to be like.

       Dumbledore had simply nodded when he'd brought the issue up, deliberately not mentioning the vampires or werewolves. The Headmaster had looked grave before he'd smiled and said that he'd already asked an old friend to provide the shielding for Harry since Hogwarts shields were good, but these one's were going to need to be exceptional and they couldn't use the Potter estate shields as they hadn't been reinforced since James had died.

       Apart from the fact that it was prestigious for old wizarding families to maintain an estate, there were practical considerations. Most of them had shields specifically keyed to the blood of the owners. This meant that for those exceptional wizards, they could still use their home estates to contain their power because the shields were reinforced by their power. It was a set of complicated charms that tied the shields to a bloodline but it was worth it when people such as Harry were concerned.

       Dumbledore had admitted it had been the same for him, and that he had deliberately kept a young Tom Riddle in school briefly for his Coming of Age. Most families took care of it quietly and most wizards didn't even require it... and how could he have forgotten until now?

       At least the Headmaster had already thought of it.

       Remus sighed as he got up, preparing to sleep, life had been so much easier in the past, even with the complications of the war.

       He never thought he'd think that.

       Maybe... maybe even if he couldn't talk to Sirius he should go see him. If it was one thing the dog animagus was good at, it was simplifying things and... and it would be good just to be with him.

       Remus smiled as he left his quarters.

       Somehow, everything would work out.

===

       Voldemort hissed as he looked at the map. It was showing him the past, what had happened scant hours ago at one of his newly formed bases.

       The fact that it was new meant that he hadn't lost many people but the fact that it was new meant that he shouldn't have lost it. But he knew now, oh yes, he knew where the vampire had run to.

       It had been a well-planned attack, with most of the manpower provided by the vampires, no doubt in an effort to prove that they were... not loyal, but that they would work with the humans on this. There were enough Order members there though that if they desired, they would have been able to cover the vampires' involvement from the Ministry, but this was probably an initial run, something for the Order to show success in before they approached the Ministry.

       He would be expected though, to retaliate, both against the Order and the one who had leaked the position of the base. That usually wouldn't have been a problem. He would enjoy the slaughter of the Order but for the traitor... There were only a few of his forces who knew where that base was and there was only one who could possibly have given Dumbledore that information and he didn't want to destroy them yet.

       He _knew_ Snape was a spy. There were a number of his Death Eaters that had gleefully reported their suspicions of Severus' duplicity to him thinking they would be rewarded but he already knew. He was not so arrogant to think that the Potion Master could get that close to Dumbledore without the ancient wizard knowing. But Albus was playing the same game he was with Severus...

       They both considered Snape's information useful, but neither of them relied on the Potion Master and their game would be over when Severus chose to support one side over the other.

       Voldemort smiled... Perhaps it was time to begin a new round in their game. Snape was only one who could have given the information to Dumbledore... He should at least be seen to punish Snape... and perhaps he could see which way the man would jump this time.

       Maybe Harry could help...

       The Dark Lord sighed.

       He already missed his mate. While they could communicate over the large distance, he knew Harry was reluctant to due to the presence of Fawkes. Harry was not in any danger, even if detected he could simply return to him and they would fight together but it would then take them many years to achieve their goals. This deception was faster but it was not comfortable.

       But they would make the sacrifice of the other's company to be able to enjoy eternity together that much faster... And he wasn't going to destroy what his mate had suffered, what he had suffered because he missed Harry.

       He'd miss him more if they were fighting for twenty seven years before they conquered it all. He knew that. They would both be too busy to see the other if it came to that.

       And it wasn't like he wouldn't see Harry this year. He rather imagined that once Dumbledore considered the Heir of Gryffindor trained, Harry would be on the battle field. The Dark Lord was looking forward to it.

       He'd seen partially what the shadows could do in combat and while he knew his beloved was powerful, he had yet to truly see what Harry could accomplish. Fighting Aurors was boring. They were weak, their training made them predictable. Fighting Vampires was similar. Xeoaph and Dumbledore would both be interesting to fight. The Vampire was old and powerful and would no doubt have some deceptive moves while the ancient wizard was sly and knew _his_ moves. But he would kill both of them when it came to it.

       No, fighting Harry would be exciting and invigorating. He'd fought the Boy-Who-Lived in the past and that had been challenging when Harry had yet to even grasp at his power. He had been innovative with his charms, giving him outcomes that no one could even hope to duplicate. Now that he knew what he could do, it would be so much more.

       He ran his tongue over thin lips as he looked back at the image of the vampires attacking. So Xeoaph still wanted to see him dead and Dumbledore was desperate enough to take aide from the undead?

       He'd known when Lucius interfered that he'd won over the Ministry and that it was only the man's rebellion that had kept him from claiming it all but he'd never expected Dumbledore to so openly admit that, for in accepting the vampire's aide he had now admitted that there was no other choice... Perhaps it wouldn't take the year as the shadows had indicated...

       :Only by a day or so though.:

       The Dark Lord sighed at the whisper, still this should make it easier for him to claim full dominion over the werewolves though, for there was no way that they could now ally with the Ministry. This time, the werewolves would not be able to stall him.

       He flicked a mote of power at the map, ceasing the movement. The base was lost but he had successfully established other bases and he would continue to. There was nothing to be concerned about.

       This was just the beginning of the year, the beginning of the year that ended it all and both Dumbledore and Xeoaph would appreciate that fully before he was finished.

       He was going to enjoy that moment when Dumbledore realised that their saviour, the Heir of Gryffindor did not belong to the Order, did not belong to the Light but was his - mind, body and soul. And after he'd claimed it all, he would give it to his mate, a gift to the one who had made it all possible, right after he finished possessing Harry once more in all the ways imagination could suggest. And he had a fairly active imagination.

 

 


	9. OWLs

Weapon   
Chapter 9 – OWLs

===

       Harry sighed as he lay down his quill at the signal before he smiled up at the still shell shocked examiners. They'd been rather taken back when he'd asked if it was all right to put a speed charm on himself so that he could write faster since he wasn't going to be able to answer everything properly without the charm. They'd discussed it for a bit, no doubt thinking he was bluffing before they allowed it.

       That had been three written OWLs ago and even with the charm, tiny writing and a few scrolls of extra parchment on each OWL he still felt that there were things he hadn't answered properly. It was surprising. He'd never concentrated on the information his beloved had given him before but now that he was, it just seemed to flow out of him. The depth and the breadth of information was impressive. Voldemort just didn't understand the complex charms and incantations; he understood the basic premises of magic, the things most wizards and witches understood instinctually, or never really understood at all, he knew consciously. It was a part of what made him so dangerous.

       To Harry though, it was a part of what made him so attractive. The Serpent Lord was accustomed to looking beneath the surface, to seeing what was hidden and to understanding why things were the way they were. He accepted the truth without trying to twist it to his purpose.

       He was cunning, yes, arrogant, yes but thoughtless... no. That was a misconception held by many wizards, that the Dark Lord thought nothing more than about his own power, cared nothing more than for domination. They would understand soon although many would not see. He was cunning for that was his nature, his arrogance was born of ability and he had thought past the destruction of what they knew.

       That wasn't Harry's concern at the moment though. Now he had to go eat lunch and prepare for the afternoon practical session of the OWL. He nodded pleasantly to Blaise and Millicent as he left. While they were taking the OWLs together, they were eating separately, and for the most part, they were avoiding him. They were waiting for the axe to fall... It would, in time, once they thought they were safe although he rather imagined that Zabini might yet confront him...

       He wasn't worried about that though, not when he was anticipating the practical session. The first practical OWL session, Harry had been a little worried. After all, it was common knowledge, thanks to the Tri-Wizard Tournament that his wand was eleven and a half inches long, and made of holly. The wand he bore now though... thirteen inches, yew... That was just as famous... for all the wrong reasons.

       The examiners though either hadn't known or didn't care and that had been somewhat of a relief. The Auror's knew, some of the Order knew but Dumbledore had cautioned them all against destroying what they believed to be the Voldemort's wand, pointing out that he would be defenseless without it, that without his own wand, he needed something and that the Dark Lord was not likely to be giving his back anytime soon, if he had it at all, which he did. Emerald eyes narrowed reflectively. He wasn't going to let them destroy this wand, not because he didn't believe it evil, it was an inanimate object, and it could not be defined as being evil... Only the use, the intent with which it was used, could define if it was evil or not. He knew that but that didn't matter, he wasn't going to let them destroy it because it was now _his_ wand. They would figure out what that meant in time.

       At the moment Fawkes was busy. The phoenix had voluntarily said he would 'sleep' during Harry's OWLs so that there could be no question about the results but the fire bird was also busy communicating with Order Members in the wake of the successful joint attack on his beloved's stronghold with the vampires. It was nice, to be able to be himself during this time. He was careful to hide in the evenings as the bird had checked on him each night so far, probably wanting to confirm that the information he had was nothing more than information, and wasn't part of a personality plant designed in the end to betray them.

       As if he needed that to love the one who had been true to him!

       They didn't understand that. They wouldn't understand that, the reason he had... not turned... but accepted the Dark Lord as his lover, as the one he would support, and more importantly who would support him for all time.

       Voldemort offered many things but there was one thing no one from the Light had ever offered him. Some had tried... but this was something where the attempt was not good enough.

       Love. The Dark Lord offered him that. Private, intense, obsessive. He could have been loved by another, Ginny was falling over herself to be the object of his affection, but it was the Dark Lord who had his heart because the Serpent Lord had been steadfast with his emotions and had offered him more than just that emotion...

       Acceptance. Dumbledore didn't understand that there were precious few who would accept him as he was. Everyone saw the singular act the magic of Lily Potter had wrought without seeing _him_. Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Ginny, Remus, even Snape... They did but there were very few who looked beyond that, who even tried to look beyond. Very few who would accept that he did not have the responsibility to be their savior. Voldemort did though.

       Understanding. There was no one else who understood. The others could try but they did not understand, and Harry didn't blame them for the lack but they looked upon him with sympathy, not understanding exactly what it was that he felt. They didn't know what he needed when he remembered he'd been raped, they didn't know what he needed when he woke up crying... he didn't want them to know.

       The Dark Lord did. He knew and he had, in the house that had held his torment, given him what he needed despite the risk, the risk that he would later reject him, that he would later consider anyone who had slept with him in that house an enemy, the risk of many things going wrong. And later, at Hogwarts, the Serpent Lord had been prepared to again give him the love he needed, to show him that he was still loved but had equally been prepared to let him take control. Voldemort had been prepared to wait until he was ready to accept him, had stood all year as a constant loving beacon in his mind, and had not said a word about his denial. He had waited because he knew that in the end, he was the only one who truly understood.

       Cunning, yes, because he knew that despite the need, his attentions would not have been accepted because Harry did not understand.

       Arrogant, yes, but arrogance born of experience and he alone knew what it was that Harry needed.

       Thoughtless, no, courtship had been gentle, loving, solicitous, each move revealing the truth only when it would be accepted, each action designed to reassure and to show the singular understanding that no one else could.

       That understanding was the reason above all others that he had seen and accepted the Lord Voldemort for what he was. Harry was not foolish though. He knew the Dark Lord had only seen him because of his ability and was concerned even now, with his aptitude for battle, but in the end, they would and they did stand together as equals. Their power had drawn them together as enemies, but their understanding saw beyond that. In the final analysis, that was all that mattered.

       And that was why he knew at the moment, the Dark Lord was more annoyed than worried about that loss since it did now confirm who his enemies were. And it allowed him now, to take definite steps, without wondering if they would be necessary, to combat the vampires.

       The Order would broach Xeoaph's proposed alliance to the Ministry soon and while it had only been a week or so, Harry had to admit that Dumbledore moved fast. The vampires had a small presence in Hogwarts already although there were plenty of places they were restricted from. Still, there was nothing better to create a feeling of alliance than by allowing mingling. The shadows had countered by now always forming at least some of his clothing so if the need arose they could defend him, not that he really expected Xeoaph to try anything... at least, not yet. It was too early.

       Remus was still sulking and there was something else going on with the werewolves but Harry expected that situation to be in hand soon. When he'd asked the shadows had just said that everyone was coming along. They wanted to surprise him. Harry grinned. It wasn't going to surprise him but he was looking forward to the outraged screams from the Ministry, and then he'd probably have to do _something_ to make it up to his beloved for stealing what he knew Voldemort already half thought of as his troops.

       That could be fun.

       Harry sighed as he shifted his wand slightly, bringing his thoughts back to his OWLs. This afternoon it was the practical side of the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL and right at the minute, his hand still ached from writing. If it was one subject he personally knew well it was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but with Voldemort's extra knowledge... He already knew his answers would eclipse anything anyone was expecting, even if they had read his previous two OWLs.

       The Dark Lord was knowledgeable about Herbology but it was knowledge based more on how to use, or how to avoid plants rather than how to care for them. Still, Harry knew the information had been more than adequate and Herbology had never been his specialty. They, Dumbledore and the Examiners, wouldn't be expecting anything special from that OWL.

       Potions had been the second one. And that was one where his beloved's knowledge had helped immensely. He tried in Potions, he really did but Snape had not been impressed when he had started brewing everything perfectly and had ignored him since about midway through the year. It had not been good way to learn but at least Potions was no longer the trial it had been.

       He had, in the written portion written much more than he had intended to, going so far as to point out some of the fallacies with popular known potions and to then suggest some improvements. In the practical section, he had perfectly brewed the listed potions, and had brewed the extra potion that the Examiner had requested.

       Dumbledore had told him that would happen. Where he showed great proficiency, the Order had requested that the Examiners raise the bar a little, to push his knowledge. So far though, he hadn't really been able to detect any increase in difficultly although from the stunned expression on Blaise and Millicent's faces and the well concealed surprise on the Examiner's face, he supposed it was difficult.

       The knowledge was just there. There was no question about it and there was no hesitation. If he thought of something, he just knew the answer, the same way as he knew everything else he had learnt during his life.

       For the DADA practical... well... he didn't know what they might ask, but this was one section he should excel in above all the rest.

===

       "Albus... I need to talk to you."

       The Headmaster looked up to see Marchbanks, the head examiner standing in the doorway. "Shouldn't you be preparing for the practical?" He asked mildly.

       The woman smiled wanly, "With only three people, it's all in hand," she said softly and it was only then that Dumbledore noticed the shaking of the parchment held in her hands, shaking that was directly translated from her trembling. He had never seen her like this.

       "What's the matter?" He asked seriously, waving for the ancient witch, who had seemed old when she examined him but now seemed frail and scared, to enter.

       She gulped as she moved forward and the door closed securely behind her. What she had to say was of such magnitude that her mind was still trying to come to terms with it. As Head Examiner for the OWLs and NEWTs she had seen many extraordinary things. She had seen the best and the brightest in their fledgling years, seen the brave and the strong developing their traits, seen the loyal and the meek show their worth... She had seen what generations of wizards were going to be capable of. She had seen Tom Riddle's twisted brilliance, seen Dumbledore's assured skill but she had _never_ seen anything like this.

       Nor had any of the other examiners.

       Very gently, Marchbanks laid the parchment on the desk, almost as if she was afraid that it would explode or self-combust at any point. "We..." she gulped. "We know you said to expect great things from Mr Potter and we took that into consideration... We were expecting another you perhaps... or maybe even something closer to Mr Riddle, or a combination of his mother's grace and his father's charm. We were _not_ expecting this."

       "Has Harry done something?" Dumbledore asked, concerned.

       "No..." the Head Examiner sighed. "No... he hasn't done anything wrong."

       "Is there a problem then?"

       "Albus, I'll admit, I didn't quite believe you when you said what you wanted done with Mr Potter's OWLs but when I saw his Herbology OWL... Albus, every single answer was perfect. And his Potion OWL... We haven't graded them yet, mostly because we aren't sure how... I've read both of them though, both written OWLs and I saw the practicals... They weren't OWL level answers, Albus. They were, at the _very_ worst, top level NEWT answers!

       "So we... we did something different today with his DADA written OWL. I'm the only one who's read it Albus, and it scares me," the examiner indicated towards the parchment. "Take a look."

       Dumbledore reached out and took the small stack of parchment, settling his glasses into place as he turned it over and looked at the first of the answers. The handwriting was tiny but the words were neatly formed and precise. He read the answer carefully, and smiled when he saw that the question was answered in a concise manner before extra information was offered.

       "It all seems in order," he said finally, looking up.

       "Look back at the front cover."

       The ancient wizard turned the parchment back over and frowned when the words seemed to blur at him. He blinked rapidly, blue eyes reaching through the illusion to focus. "This isn't an OWL..."

       "Yes, we gave him the NEWT paper. We're not sure if Mr Potter noticed but he didn't even blink at it, just started writing... and there are three scrolls of extra information, all written in the same tiny format, and all just as accurate as his answer."

       "Defense Against the Dark Arts has always been Harry's specialty," Dumbledore said easily.

       "If it was a one off, I might be able to believe that but not when his Herbology and Potion's papers are similar. No one else has seen this paper yet, Albus... I'm not sure what to do with it but I want you to tell me one thing now... what exactly are we testing Mr Potter for?"

       Dumbledore looked up at the ceiling as he breathed deeply. He should have expected Marchbanks to be like this, especially with Harry producing outstanding results and he shouldn't have expected anything less from the boy. "You are testing to see how much information Harry has adsorbed from the Dark Lord Voldemort," he explained mildly, deciding to go with the truth.

       "We're what?!"

       "You are testing to see..."

       "I heard, I heard... Why are we testing for this? How did it happen?"

       "We will never know what Lily was trying to do beyond protecting Harry, that night... but whatever it was, it had some unexpected consequences," Dumbledore began the explanation, unconsciously echoing some of Tom's words to Elliot. " _Avada Kedrava_ is a very powerful curse - both in terms of the magic required to make it work, and the emotion it involves.

       "Bouncing it back, however the combined power of Harry and Lily did it, had some interesting effects which are only now coming to light, and they are coming to light because Harry is maturing and can now use what he has always known.

       "When Tom attacked, in that singular moment there was a sort of bond formed between him and Harry. It is evident in Harry's scar but it was more than that. Harry feels pain when Tom is happy and can to some extent know what he is thinking. It is not something we have asked Harry to use because he is still a child. When he comes of age, though, the Order will help him to control it, and to use it in the battle.

       "There was more though. Somehow, Tom's knowledge, or part there of, also got transferred into Harry. It hasn't been active until now, and we think Tom may have done something in the past year... So that's what you are testing... How much information got transferred, so how much information Harry can possibly use in the battle."

       "I... I see," Marchbanks said slowly.

       "I assure you," Albus said knowingly, "we are aware of the risks, and Harry is a fully inducted member of the Order of the Phoenix. Fawkes is checking on him every night and so far there has been nothing even slightly out of the ordinary beyond the usual teenage woes."

       "That's good to hear." The relief was evident in the Head Examiner's voice. She had obviously been concerned but uncertain how to phrase the question.

       Dumbledore nodded reassuringly. By offering this information, he could skip over some of the rest of it, like what Tom might have done to activate the information, or why they knew about it in the first place. There were so many questions he didn't want to answer.

       "If Harry is doing even better than expected then, can you stay a few more days?"

       "Why?"

       "If Harry says it's okay, I'd like to see how he does in those subjects he hasn't studied. Tom had extensive knowledge in all areas of magic, but Harry at least, has never studied things like Arthimancy, and I would be curious to know if the knowledge he now possesses is activated by his own studying, or if it's just there for him to call on when he wishes."

       "Ah," Marchbanks nodded as she looked at the situation in abstract, pretending it was a hypothetical circumstance rather than reality. "That shouldn't be a problem. I doubt I'm the only one who is curious to see how far Mr Potter can go. He's going to break all previous grading records, you know."

       Dumbledore smiled, amused. "I know. So how do you think this afternoon's practical will go?"

       "After reading his paper, I think we're not going to be prepared but I think we should try for something like the Auror test."

       "A duel?"

       "Yes but only if he passes the rest of it."

       "He will," Dumbledore half closed his eyes as he considered it before he sighed. It would be a good opportunity to gauge how ready Harry was for combat. The tests could show him so much, but only mock combat itself could really begin to show him how long it would be before Harry could enter the battle, and right at the moment, he didn't have any one who could test the boy properly. This was too good to pass up, even if the Examiners weren't bound to secrecy... It was something that would come out eventually. "Be careful," he said finally. "In combat, even mock combat, Harry could be more dangerous than you realize."

       "We will be," Marchbanks nodded before rising, picking up the parchment once again and hugging it close. "I have to go, or else there won't be an afternoon practical."

       Albus nodded. "I will ask Harry about the other exams tonight."

       "I'll start getting the NEWT papers together then," Marchbanks said with a laugh. "OWL papers hardly seem challenging. And I will look forward to the day that Harry enters combat. I do believe the Dark Lord will know fear."

       "I will tell you when he is ready," Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you," he added, ignoring Marchbanks' parting wave as he picked up the duplicate copy of Harry's exam he had made when looking through it.

       This was very interesting...

===

       Harry blinked as he entered the Great Hall for his practical DADA OWL. There was someone watching... He shook his head... Of course there was someone watching, he told himself irritably. The examiners, one or two of the staff, Blaise and Millicent... they were all watching him...

       :And the vampire up on the third beam to your left.:

       He didn't even look, he just pointed as he turned to the Head Examiner, "Is he meant to be there?"

       The wizards looked up to see a flicker of movement as the vampire dodged, flinching back, further into shadow. The quicker of eye tracked the movement and several raised wands, an assortment of charms half voiced.

       There was a chuckle as the vampire realised he'd been caught and with a graceful movement he dropped from the beams, landing neatly near the centre of the Great Hall. "Would it be better if I watched with the other Professors?"

       "It would be better if you didn't watch at all," Marchbanks snapped.

       "My master ordered me to watch, so I've got no real choice."

       :Which one is it?:

       :Ikhan. One of Xeoaph's older children.:

       "It's all right," Harry spoke up again, smiling at Marchbanks. "I don't mind him watching, I just wondered if he should be. And the Order has a deal with his master, so it's okay if it's not against any of the rules, or something like that," he added.

       "Are you sure?"

       "If it's okay with Blaise and Millicent, then it's fine by me," Harry shrugged.

       Marchbanks turned towards the two Slytherins with as grandmotherly pose as she could manage. They nodded. Neither of them wanted to get into trouble and neither of them had even sensed the vampire.

       "Thank you, Mr Potter," Ikhan said smoothly, moving to stand with the watching Professors, but leaving a small distance between himself and them.

       "Don't thank me just yet, Ikhan," Harry said, his tone cool. "This is the DADA practical and you are after all one of the things we learn to defend against."

       "Is that a threat?"

       "Just a warning... But one more thing, tell your master, I don't like things that hide in shadows."

       "Very well, Sha..." Ikhan paused at the pulse of warning he felt from Xeoaph. :Master?:

       :Not yet, my childe... Potter is not yet the Shadow Lord.:

       :I understand.:

       :Be careful.:

       :Humph... He can't hurt me.:

       :Shield anyway, because if he hurts or kills you, I will not be able to object.:

       :He's just a child.:

       :Who will, and is beginning to, wield one of the most dangerous gifts known to wizards. Even my creator will respect him at full power.:

       Ikhan gulped, nodding mentally in sudden humility. :I will be careful, Master.:

       "Have you told him?" Harry interrupted their conversation before he turned back towards the examiner, disinterested in the answer.

       In a darkened room in Hogwarts, Xeoaph blinked as his link to Ikhan was cut. "You'll be dead," he whispered to himself, knowing somehow that the fledgling Shadow Lord would find a way to kill Ikhan. It might only be a few rebel Shadows who served the Dark Lord but it appeared they all shared the hatred of vampires and had transferred that hatred to their true master. It was a pity that they would not acknowledge the vampires as the true Masters of Dark, they could have done so much together and it would be a shame to have to crush Potter utterly when the time came but the power of dark did not rest with a mortal.

       Harry looked over to Tofty and smiled reassuringly. After all it wasn't the examiners fault the vampire was there and it didn't really affect anything.

       Professor Tofty, who had examined him on his Herbology Practical smiled back at him, albeit a bit wanly before he drew himself up, and with a determined shrug motioned that Harry should go over to the table.

       "We'll start this off with the usual charms, Harry, and then," he cast a significant glance at Blaise and Millicent, "once the other's leave we'll move on to the more advanced things."

       Both Slytherins had worked out that Harry was being tested more extensively than them. They would have had to have been complete imbeciles not to have noticed that his practicals, even though this was only their third one, were taking longer, and that during the written phase he was writing much more than them. Neither of them had said a word. He didn't expect them to say a word, but he was slightly curious to know if they really thought anything odd with the situation, or had just written it off as something that was happening simply because he was Harry Potter.

       "That sounds good, Professor," Harry said. "What should we do first?"

       Tofty smiled, that vague wishy-washy smile one got from old people but there was nothing vague about the ancient wizard. "Mr Potter, if you would please demonstrate the charms that work on a Doxy."

       Harry smiled. He recognised a trick question when he heard it. "There are many charms which will work on a Doxy," he said, "and if you get bitten you should take the antidote but is there any particular charm you would like to see?"

       "No but it is occasionally fun to see what charms some students try. I should have known that you would have been aware already. On to something that isn't a trick. There are very few charms that work on Graphorns, please demonstrate two."

       "None of the charms work very well against them," Harry sighed. "But an impediment jinx with enough power behind it will have some effect, similar to how multiple stunning charms on a dragon will take effect."

       "Very good," Tofty said. "Please demonstrate on this tea pot." With a flick of his wand he cast the Locomotion charm on the tea pot and it began to run around the table quickly.

       Harry giggled before raising his hand. Despite everything, he still wasn't happy with using Voldemort's yew wand... At least that's what he was telling everyone. " _Impedima,_ " he said clearly, pointing towards the happily running tea pot.

       Its little legs froze as the small pulse of power hit it. It trembled on stiff legs before they gave way and it literally plonked back on to the table, its lid making a little tinkle as it fell.

       "Wonderful!" the examiner said as his charm was cancelled. He was used to Harry not using a wand now but it had been a surprise during the first exam. "How about the second charm?"

       "Cataract curse," Harry said easily. "The only problem is aiming," he added.

       "That shouldn't be a problem this time," Tofty said as a rabbit appeared on the table next to the tea pot.

       Harry smiled at the memories as he gathered his power again. This was the very charm Sirius had been about to suggest to him to fight the dragon with in his fourth year. It was amusing that he would be tested on it now. Of course his Godfather had never been able to suggest it, but it was still a good memory.

       The charm hit the rabbit neatly and very quickly its red eyes clouded to a milky white. It was perhaps a misnomer to call the curse a cataract curse when essentially it caused blindness through the milky white film not cataracts but it was effective either way.

       "Good," Tofty said as he dismissed the charm and the rabbit and tea pot disappeared, no doubt thanks to the efforts of the House Elves.

       A chest appeared in front of them. It rattled slightly.

       "A boggart?" Harry questioned.

       "Exactly."

       Harry grinned. The conversations with his Godfather were a good memory, but they wouldn't serve now.

       _Oh shit,_ Harry thought with unfamiliar vehemence remembering something that should have been obvious. The boggart would turn into what he feared and right now his biggest fear was being found out. He wasn't sure how the boggart would transform to show that but he wasn't eager to find out.

       " _Confundus_ " he whispered under his breath, pointing towards the chest. All he had to do was confuse it, and that was easy if you knew how. After all, Barty Crouch had done it to the Goblet of Fire which technically speaking was a magical being, so why couldn't he do it to the boggart?

       At least, he hoped he could. _At least let it turn into something believable,_ Harry sighed desperately as Tofty flicked open the lid and stepped back to stand behind the box so that the boggart would only see Harry. He could decide what to do to make it funny once he saw it.

       There was a pulse of darkness as the lid rose. Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked at the emerging energy.

       There was one thing he feared more than being found out he realised belatedly... and it was a fear so strong his Confundus charm would not be enough.

       Harry gulped. Icy tendrils wrapped themselves around his heart as the boggart began to take shape. It wavered for a moment, lurking in the darkness as it seemed confused but then there was no hesitation as it finally took the shape of a man.

       "No," he whispered taking a step back. Around the Great Hall, Harry was only vaguely aware of all eyes turning towards him to see his fear.

       Emerald eyes looked at him sparkling happily, black hair was as messily alluring as always and cherry lips were curved in a smile that mirrored the eyes happiness. Black robes fell around the man not obscuring but only enhancing his lithe beauty.

       "I killed her."

       :I killed him.:

       A pale hand reached out, palm upward and smeared with a tacky redness, and Harry could see in the other hand the knife that had split the blood with terrible clarity. A snake pattern was etched into the blade although it was partially obscured by blood and rubies and emeralds adorned the hilt.

       He knew that dagger.

       "See? Isn't her blood beautiful?"

       :See? Isn't his blood beautiful?:

       For a moment all Harry could see was red, the red of blood, freshly split and his pupils contracted, becoming mere dots in a sea of green.

       "No," he repeated, although this time not in fear. "It's not beautiful," he growled, as he raised his hand, forcing his mind away from the fear and rage that was consuming him, forcing himself to think of an appropriate picture.

       "This is beautiful," he said as his mind locked on to the image. " _Rediculous_ ," he said, releasing his energy at the boggart that had taken his form.

       It was silly but there was only a limited number of things he could do without revealing everything. He imagined the black robes to be yellow, with daisy's on them in bright orange, purple and blue. The blood on the boggart's hands turned into petals which fluttered to the ground and the dagger transfigured itself into a single blue long stemmed rose.

       "The flower is beautiful but the rest of you is ridiculous. Good bye," Harry said firmly, glaring as the boggart's image wavered. He didn't laugh but the complete lack of fear was enough to confuse the being.

       It looked confused before it squealed in a pitch that was so low it was almost a keen before the boggart became riddled with cracks that shattered giving only the briefest glimpse of a shadow that might have been the boggart's true form but could have been nothing more than the after image of fear.

       Tofty clapped. "Very good, very good!" He exclaimed happily, pushing the chest closed. He sympathetically patted Harry on the shoulder when he saw that his examinee was still pale. "It won't happen," he said soothingly. "If you fear it that much, it will not happen."

       Harry gulped, trying to settle his nerves as he reminded himself that Tofty had not heard all that he had and nothing was considered out of place. He was scared of that though. "Thank you," he said, standing up straighter and casting his eyes around the hall to see the reactions of the others.

       Blaise and Millicent had already turned back towards their own examiners and from the looks of things they were almost finished. A few of the other examiners where looking at him curiously, no doubt trying to work out who she was that he would fear so much, while the others were looking away. Well, no doubt they'd find out soon enough who she was since he doubted that such a secret would be able to be kept forever. Not when he had appearances to maintain.

       The vampire looked... bored. He looked bored but he wasn't. There were sharp lines of interest around his eyes directly clashing with the lazy pout on his lips. Everything would be reported back to his Master before the day was out.

       "Just ignore them and we will continue," Tofty said softly.

       Harry nodded, watching from the corner of his eye as the two Slytherin students bowed towards their examiners and left the Hall.

       "Given the current situation," Tofty was saying, "I don't think it unreasonable for me to test you on the standard anti Vampire charms. While we don't have one on hand for you to demonstrate on, unless our watcher would like to participate...?"

       Ikhan shook his head. "Sorry, not even for the sake of learning."

       "Ah," Tofty said smiling. "In that case Harry, just demonstrate there," he pointed. "There are some physical manifestations that can be graded. Is that enough out of range for you?" the Professor asked, looking back towards their vampire watcher.

       Ikhan rolled his eyes, "Yes." He hissed shortly.

       "Good. Are you ready, Mr Potter?"

       Harry nodded, only half listening.

       :Be careful, Master,: the shadows warned.

       :Why?:

       :These are charms of the light, and that is your power. Not even Dumbledore will be able to rival you with these charms.:

       :I'll try.: Harry reassured them but he wasn't confident of his ability to fully limit the light. As they had said, it was his power, it over flowed from him, it was him and that wasn't something that could be controlled.

       " _Solaris,_ " Harry said softly, using as little power as possible.

       The light pooled in his hand, like a small lumos charm, only much brighter. It was pure white and shone like a star as the light poured out from between his fingers.

       "Wonderful," Tofty cried but then swung around at the muffled gasp of pain.

       Ikhan hissed, shielding his eyes from the light. The little globe hurt, it hurt more than the real sun and with another hiss of frustration he ducked behind one of the pillars in the Hall, and watched from the safety of the shadow as beams of light streamed past.

       :Weakling,: there was a whisper in his mind and the vampire looked up to see the darkness skittered but he couldn't help but notice that the shadows were also avoiding the still streaming light.

       "Humph!" he snorted, deliberately stepping back as the light began to fade. It still stung, still burned his eyes but he was not going to be out done. Vampires were masters of the dark. He might not be a full master, like his sire, Xeoaph or his sire but he would not be out done by a shadow.

       He suppressed a hiss at the hint of green laughing at him, as the other two students bowed towards their instructors and left. He was not going to be chased away by the shadow master.

       "I think that's just about it, unless..." Tofty smiled looking up at Harry. "There are many charms to deal with many of the dark creatures, however there is one charm that works without fail against any dark creature."

       "The Patronus," Harry supplied, already knowing what Professor Tofty was going to ask.

       "Yes, and I heard from my dear friend Tiberus Ogden that you could... So now, not that you need it, for a bonus mark..?"

       Harry grinned, winnowing through his mind for an appropriately happy thought. The shadows hissed and Harry didn't even see them dodge everywhere in an effort to remain in shadow. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " he called, raising his hand as he remembered warm arms sliding around him and there was a presence in his mind and body that spoke of nothing but love and acceptance. There was a responding tingle in his groin that he ignored as light exploded around him.

       The familiar form of the stag shot forth, somehow more defined than it had ever been. Every muscle was visible, rippling just below the hide of light and you could almost hear the tap of hoof on stone. Antlers bristled and seemed impossibly huge and draped around the animals neck, rising and falling gracefully as the stag galloped around the Great Hall was a threaded necklace of lilies.

       "Bravo!" Professor Tofty clapped happily, turning his eyes back to Harry. "Bra..." the cheer faded in his throat as he looked at the Boy-Who-Lived.

       Most wizards when they performed the Patronus were only capable of summoning a vague hazy light. Others could summon something that resembled their Patronus' true form but only about one in ten wizards, unless under great stress, when that number rose a little, could summon a fully defined Patronus but it hadn't been since the days of the charm's creation that Tofty had heard of anyone capable of summoning the aurora sactishieldus - the Sacred Shield of Light.

       But that was the only explanation for what he was seeing.

       Harry was surrounded by a shining white nimbus. It almost looked like he was burning as it rippled around him in waves, wisps curling upwards in a continuous motion and as he watched he saw the wisps gather together to arch high over Harry's head before they swept back down to the floor. The whole thing was moving, like ribbons being woven together to form some protective barrier. Against the light, Harry's black hair seemed all the more darker, while his robes almost seemed bleached of colour.

       Harry didn't notice any of this though, his eyes were closed and there was the softest smile on his lips indicating that whatever memory he was lost within was gentle and happy beyond words.

       The knowledge comforted Tofty and he was about to reach out to rouse Harry when a scream caused him to turn back towards the Great Hall.

       The stag had found the vampire and with more strength than any Patronus should have was herding the dark being into a corner. It was using sweeps of its great antlers and lightning fast kicks from small hooves as it moved and Tofty and the other watchers couldn't do anything more than stare transfixed at events.

       Eventually Ikhan could not retreat any further and for a moment the stag stilled, head raised magnificently before it lowered glowing antlers, pawed the ground and charged.

       "No!" Ikhan cried, gathering his power but by then it was too late and the sharp points of the stag's antlers had pierced his vampiric body. Smoke rose from the wounds and Ikhan writhed, screaming as his flesh burnt. The stag was indifferent and Harry was beyond hearing as the vampire reached out, imploringly to him. "Please, Master!"

       The desperate plea did nothing and the stag raised its head, the vampire still impaled upon its horns before it turned back and began trotting towards its creator, tossing the still screaming vampire like it was some obscene game. On the wall where Ikhan had been impaled there were now black scratches almost as if the marks had been burnt there but the insubstantial antlers of the patronus.

       Halfway back to Harry Ikhan stopped screaming and in true vampiric style his body disintegrated between one toss and the next. The stag danced sideways rather fastidiously avoiding the falling ash before it dismissed the remains with a jaunty flick of its tail and resumed trotting back towards its master who was still oblivious to the world.

       It was a slightly worrying sight, having just seen what the stag was capable of, when it carefully lowered its head, tilting its antlers away from its master and bumped its head into Harry's chest.

       Emerald eyes flickered open at the contact and almost instinctually he reached out to touch his protective animal. It shuddered under the touch, contact only made possible because Harry was still surrounded by light. The stag seemed content as Harry stroked its nose. After a moment though it drew back raising its head to allow brilliant white eyes to meet with emerald before it vanished.

       As the light faded from around Harry there was an almost audible break in tension from the examiners and watchers as Harry returned to normal.

       Tofty took a deep breath before turning back to Harry, meeting his eyes but quickly turning away, the blush of a much younger man staining his cheeks as he recognised the cause of the cloudiness in sparkling green eyes.

       A happy memory indeed. He would have to warn the young man about such power but for now they had an OWL to complete.

===

       Harry looked around with narrowed eyes, shifting his grip on the wand. His fingers were sweaty. Not from fear, but from nerves. He didn't want to do too well here. That was what was making him nervous.

       He'd agreed to this perhaps a little too easily. There were a mixture of Aurors, Professors - Order members all, and some of the younger, sprightlier examinations Professors were facing him.

       Apparently this was what they meant by advanced examination. A duel.

       Harry grimaced as he recalled the instructions for this test. "Show us what you can do." What they really meant was show us the extent of your power. The Order must be getting desperate to have him as a fighter, although he knew Voldemort hadn't done anything recently. After the loss of his base, he was still regrouping, although everyone was expecting at least a token reprisal.

       They didn't know the Dark Lord, though. Why make a token reprisal when you could wait slightly longer and attack at full strength? Harry didn't know what the attack was going to be, but he had felt his beloved planning it.

       Right now, however, that wasn't his concern. He had the last bit of his DADA Practical OWL to get through, and the rest of his OWLs to complete. The Order and the Dark Lord would clash again and again because at the moment neither force had the manpower needed to land a decisive blow; that was probably the reason why he was standing here. The Order was hoping he could become the power they required to win. He'd said it himself; he would be the weapon.

       And to be the weapon, he had to win here.

       The shadows were wrapped around him, so that even if any of the surrounding witches and wizards were more powerful than expected, he would be safe. Theoretically, he should be safe anyway, as this was just a test.  However, when dueling at the level that was expected here, there could be no such thing as absolute safe guards. The shadows were under his robes, forming a protective layer against his skin; he could feel them moving slowly. They were as powerful as always, and had been invigorated by their recent feast, but it was also making them slightly sluggish.  Hence, they had chosen the direct option of protecting him, physically manifesting themselves against him, so that if anything got past his defenses, it would not get past them.

       Standing apart from the group surrounding him were watchers.  The examination professors who were too old, some members of the Order, and some members of staff were gathered on the far side of the Hall, next to the remains of Ikhan.  They were watching from behind a protective barrier that had been slung between two pillars. The area had been designated safe, although whether it would remain that way was anyone's guess. Dumbledore wasn't present, but Harry was sure he was watching somehow.

       The duel was to be magical, physical, and any combination of the two that the combatants could carry out. There were other duelists waiting to take the place of the fallen and it would continue until Harry surrendered or was knocked out, or until there was no one left to fight. From the self-assured arrogance Harry could feel from the few Aurors who had agreed to fight a fifth year student, they were expecting this to be easy. They really should just who the fifth year student they were fighting was.

       He loosened and tightened his fingers on the yew wand once more, lowering his head slightly to look over the rims of his glasses at the leading Auror, the smile of a much older man appearing on his lips as he took the initiative.

       " _Serpentsortia_!" He said easily, hissing further instructions as the snake materialized into existence. -Wrap around me and hinder physical attacks. Only attack yourself when the opportunity presents itself.-

       -Yes, Master.-

       Harry felt some of his attackers draw back. The charm was one usually used by Slytherins, with their affinity for serpents, but without parseltougue they couldn't use the true power of the summoned serpent; they just relied on it attacking the first thing it saw. No strategy at all.

       "You said to show what I could do."

       "We did indeed, boy, we did indeed," one of the Aurors replied with a chuckle. It was one of the older ones, one who knew how much the Ministry needed the help and was prepared to take it from anywhere.  " _Impedimenta_ ," they snapped the curse out.

       The serpent that was now loosely wrapped around Harry flicked its tail contemptuously, blocking the curse and rebounding it back towards another wizard who wasn't nimble enough to dodge. As a magical construct it was only minimally affected by magic other than that of its creator, unless, of course, its controlling magical node was destroyed. That was the true advantage of summoning things in battle.

       Harry nudged the serpent with his toe, indicating that he was going to move before he leapt at the unfortunate wizard who was struggling to remain balanced. The man saw him coming, brown eyes snapped wide when he realized he was out of this battle. A quick tap to the wizard’s temple and Harry was jumping back to the protective coils of the serpent, the trained Aurors only now beginning to catch up. They obviously hadn't expected him to be so direct.

       _One down, lots more to go,_ Harry thought.

       A couple of the older witches and wizards, mostly the examination professors who were sprightly enough to be joining in, had taken advantage of his opening moves and had grouped themselves together, two of them weaving a barrier around the group. The others were chanting longer and more complicated charms. They'd probably been combat Aurors when they were younger. They knew how to fight.

       " _Protes!_ " Harry said, casting the multi-purpose protection charm around himself. Whatever the older group was going to attack with, it would show their wisdom and he had full respect for that.

       " _Sonici, Darkshale_ ," Harry continued, casting before the Aurors forced him into protective motions. Still, the sound waves weakened one of the Order members enough for the Darkshale to take effect. Unfortunately, one of the other Order members cast the counter before Harry could finish her.

       Two Aurors ran up behind him, hoping to grab him before the snake noticed but the serpent spun snapping at them, fangs glistening and they quickly retreated slightly, drawing their weapons as they prepared to draw the snake away.

       Harry suppressed a grin, casting a quick glance towards the older professors who were still chanting. There were three groups attacking him but they weren't working together and if he dodged right he could have one group take out another. 

       The examination professors were being cautious, as expected from the experience gained through the years. They had taken the standard approach - establish defenses then attack. They'd also seen what he was capable of over the past few practical OWLs, which was probably why they were taking so long with these charms, hoping that he couldn't counter them immediately. In general, the longer the charm took to cast, the longer the counter charm took; in combat, you couldn't afford to waste time. But that was only true if you didn't have the sheer power to simply nullify the curse through will alone. That's what made fighting wizards of Dumbledore and Voldemort's strength so challenging. They didn't always need the words to make their magic work; they only needed the will behind their power.

       The Aurors were more used to combat but they weren't all from the same Unit, hence the physical attacks from some while the others preferred magic as each ran through their Unit's usual initial attack pattern.

       And finally, the Order members were working together; what they lacked in experience they were making up for in teamwork, each looking out for each other, but only occasionally looking out for the Aurors or Professors.

       Still, against him, who only had to worry about himself, the gaps in the wholes defenses should be enough to bring them down. 

       " _Pel'seld!_ " The examination Professors finished chanting, moving their wands as one as they gestured towards the serpent that was currently providing most of Harry's protection.

       The Protes barrier helped but there were coils of the serpent that weren’t completely protected and the professors had aimed at them. The snake gave a surprised hiss, its coal black eyes widening slightly as the magic hit it and travelled inwards towards the small node of controlling magic. Harry hissed as well, as the first waves of the Pel'seld struck his spell and began unravelling it. He could have reinforced it, forcing the serpent to remain in existence but he decided to let it go, hissing one last order towards it.

       -Attack!-

       The snake was fading but recognized the last command of its master, surging forward, fangs barred to attack the Aurors with their weapons drawn. The impact was not as great as it should have been because the magic was untangling but having an eight foot long snake spring at you was enough to unsettle most wizards, and two of the Aurors went down under the disappearing coils of the serpent. A third was bitten and wobbled for a few moments before falling, as the poison took effect.

       "He's only asleep," Harry reassured everyone, in between casting several charms towards the various groups, as he began hopping around to avoid their continuing attacks.

       The watchers were stunned. While the level of magic displayed so far was not excessive, the precision was. Watching was beautiful, both for the sheer accuracy being displayed by all involved, and because many of the spells or counter-charms were very pretty when cast. The splash of curses against magical shields was especially enthralling and as Harry cast a series of curses towards the Professors, the radiance reflected from their shield caused many watchers to sigh at the utter splendour.

       Emerald eyes narrowed as Harry continued to dodge, bringing his left hand up to reinforce his shield. The Aurors were beginning to attack physically now, so he had to dodge both charms and swords and it almost felt like he was dancing... not that he really knew how to dance, he recalled ruefully. He kept looking over to the Professors, sensing from them the greatest danger.

       The Aurors didn't believe he was capable, and while they were fast losing that belief with every spell and attack he dodged, they wouldn't completely lose it until they were defeated.

       The Order knew what he was capable of, but he could sense from them still a sense of awe, a reticence to attack another Order member, or maybe just to attack him. He was sure that they would lose that before he was through though.

       From the Professors though... they knew what he could do, and they were serious about this fight. They weren't holding back. In fact, Harry could sense from the sidelines that a few of them, who were watching were split as to who they should be cheering for. Tofty though was unashamedly cheering him on.

       Harry grinned as the old wizard's voice broke through to everyone. "Don't hold back Harry!" There was a gleeful note in Tofty's voice, mixed with a certain amount of pride, and Harry could almost see the man reminiscing in the future that he had examined Harry Potter himself.

       "All right," he whispered waving towards Tofty as he gathered himself. "Are you ready?" Harry asked conversationally, turning to face the Professors.

       "Any time you are, pup," one of them responded.

       "Let's go!" He said suddenly, tossing his wand from his right to left hand as the Sword of Gryffindor materialized before him. He tapped his foot lightly on the stone beneath him once before jumping into action. " _Shatterous! Sonici, Petrifus Totalus, Darkshale!"_ The first curse was directed towards their shield, which with a slice from his sword collapsed, and the other three towards the two wizards who had been holding the shield; sonici to weaken them and the other two to finish them. The two collapsed but were caught by their fellows.

       Harry jumped away, grinning as some of the Aurors attacks missed him and hit the gathered Professors, taking out two more. "Thanks," he said cheekily, jumping back and around to attack the members of the Order.

       The Order members had decided to apply a similar technique to the one used by the Professors, and stood in regimented lines, each one backing up the others. There was a shimmering shield held around the whole group by the back row, leaving the other two rows free to attack. He guessed that the front row would be purely offensive while the middle row would concentrate on neutralizing his attacks before they could break the shield. It was neat, efficient and logical.

       And he would require some time to wear them down.

       With a flick of his left hand, he sent a jolt of raw magic through the wand towards the Aurors, smiling wanly as it sent them flying. There had only been two left, and while there was a second wave to come, Harry wagered that they'd take their time to consider their actions before they rushed into this duel. And while the Auror's were considering, the Professors were regrouping, and that gave him time to deal with the Order.

       Harry angled his shield to face the Order, but he kept a part of it facing the Professors in case they recovered quicker than expected. The shield extended around him completely, the angling of it was more focusing on where it was strongest. He flicked Gryffindor's sword around and jammed the point between two flagstones so that he could cast with both hands. 

       _This is going to be interesting._ Harry thought as he gathered himself slightly, looking over at the Order members.  _Right hand defense, left attack._ He thought to himself as he tried to formulate a plan.

       " _Darkshale, Absentia, Impedimenta, Petrifus totalus_! _"_ The first wave of jinxes from the Order were designed to test his reactions and defenses. With a frown he flicked his right hand up, reinforcing his shield and letting the curses splash against it. They had an idea of how good his attacking abilities were. It was time to demonstrate defense. But he wasn't going to be a sitting duck.

       " _Omiasma_ ," Harry said, gesturing with his left hand and was pleased to see that the very stones seemed to spew forth an obscuring haze. He quickly took two steps to the left and grinned as something pinged into the place he had been standing.

       " _Zephyr._ " 

       Harry didn't recognize the voices but he guessed it was the second row of the Order when a breeze sprang out of no-where and began pushing the mists away. The mist quickly became tattered and as soon as his outline was visible the first row resumed their task. He nodded to himself. The arrangement was indeed efficient.

       " _Furnunculus, Shatterous, Sonici._ " He grinned as he recognized some of his own jinxes being cast back, but he wasn't going to make it that easy and dove and rolled out of the way of the sound waves. Even with a shield, they would be painful. 

       " _Solaris_!" He cried, this time putting as much effort into the brilliant charm as he dared risk. The light was incredible and his eyes watered as he dodged left again. If his eyes were watering, and he had the natural protection of both casting the spell and a power of light, then it must be blinding to the Order members it was directed at. He began muttering a longer charm under his breath, not wanting to give them any warning. It wasn't an attack, rather a defense but it looked like he was going to need it.

       It took a few moments longer this time for the counter to be cast. After all, this charm wasn't one you wanted to counter that often. " _Tsukiyoru_!" The counter charm might have been delayed but the follow up curses weren't.

       " _Shatterous, Gomu Gomu, Etalosi, Lohalgewing, Stilletos_."

       The edge of the seeming hail of stilettos slammed up against his shield as Harry ducked away. They were compensating nicely for his movement and he was going to have to take the initiative soon, or else they would just wear him down. Pure magical curses against the strength of a protes shield was okay, but they knew as did he, that physically based charms were the way to bring it down.

       Harry paused in his low chant, borrowing a move directly from the Dark Lord's battle with Lucius, except that he didn't aim up. " _Masonitroy_ ," he called, aiming his power into the large stones on the floor just before the Order's shield. The stone shattered and Harry frowned as he thought he heard something cry out in pain. From the broken rock a fine powder rose, surrounding the Order members, and Harry resumed his chant.

       " _Zephyr._ " The counter was repeated.

       " _Sonici!_ " The entire offensive line cried, obviously hoping to create a wave wide enough to catch him in. And being a combined physical and magical attack it should be strong enough to take down his shield, even if it did nothing else.

       " _Komarachni,_ " was echoed in the call of the Sonici, one of them had obviously got the instructions wrong.

       Harry grinned, whispering the final words on his charm as his next move dawned upon him with almost terrible clarity. " _Sheltol,_ " the magically generated sound waves broke through his protes only to be halted by the stronger almost absolute barrier. The magic dissipated in colorful rainbows and Harry pursed his lips as he looked around for the effects of the other charm before he realized that none of the Order members had made a mistake. It was the opening move of the second round of Aurors.

       He had to finish with the Order quickly. Because he'd been using so much light magic, Fawkes' presence was awake in his mind, and that was one of the reasons he hadn't been commanding the shadows. Besides, it added to the view that while he knew about them and could control them he was still new at it. But with Fawkes awake, that meant he could contact the other Order members.

       This was going to hurt.

       Emerald eyes narrowed as Harry grabbed at the mental presence of the firebird. There was an indignant squawk but the bird's defenses were low because no one was meant to be able to do this. He clenched his teeth, lowering his gaze as he prepared to strike, ignoring the small struggles the phoenix was making against his grip. In his own mind, he ruled supreme and the bird needed reminding of that.

       Harry did though, as he reached out through the phoenix to touch the other Order members, ensure that he was only reaching towards those who were present in the Great Hall. There was no need to incapacitate the entire Order and he rather imagined that as soon as he released Fawkes, the bird would be reinforcing his mental defenses within every Order member to ensure that no one else even attempted this. 

       He grimaced as he forcefully called forth some memories and literally threw them with some of the feelings they invoked into the minds of the other Order members. The memory of the pain of the cruciatus curse made his bones ache and the mind shattering fear he had felt witnessing the rebirth of the Dark Lord almost made him whimper but for the other warm memories were his true thoughts on Voldemort which wrapped around him like a blanket, hidden from the phoenix, but supportive. 

       The other members of the Order did not have such protection though and while they wouldn't see the memories, they would experience the emotions and the pain. As expected they screamed, even Fawkes screamed and there was a visible flinching from the watchers as they tried to see what Harry had done. Several of them fell, hugging themselves as they tried to ease the pain and through his own pain, Harry tried to lift the memories as much as he could from them, redirecting the energy towards those holding the shield.

       When it fell, it happened all at once because the Order members seemed to fall in unison, probably because Fawkes' presence retreated forcefully from them all as the phoenix tried to escape Harry's grasp. A single crack appeared in the shield and raced with lightning speed over the entire surface. It almost looked like a feather, or the veins on a left. And then, the segments of the shield vanished, the magic returning into the streams that flowed through Hogwarts.

       Harry gasped pulling back the memories and releasing Fawkes, and spat one further curse " _Stupefy_! Bounce!" He added the instruction, willing his magic to obey. Fawkes' mental presence vanished almost entirely from him but the Order's tattoo itched. It was not something he could attend to now though. 

       The curse hit the leading Order members and knocked them out but instead of vanishing when its target was unconscious, this jinx ricocheted hitting further Order members until it almost looked like a small pile of dominoes falling. He didn't get a chance to admire his handiwork because the shadows screamed into his ear.

       :Master, dodge right!: The lingering phantom pain from the memory of cruciatus eased as he jumped, grabbing Gryffindor's sword as he rolled on the hard stones and sprang to his feet, turning to glare at what had attacked him.

       At least that answered the question of where the Komarachni summon had gone.

       The summoned spider was huge. It was as big as one of Hagrid's Acromantulas and by the streams of magic all over it; it was the result of the combined summons of two... no three Aurors in the second wave.

       Harry smiled, shaking off the last of the phantom pain as he lowered his glasses to look directly into the spider's six plate-like eyes. 

       The spider jerked, its legs skittering and tapping heavily on the stones as it tried to back away but the Aurors held it firmly into position. Emerald eyes continued to stare and under the pressure the spider began swaying from side to side.

       He could see the sweat beginning to form on the Auror's brows and the questions forming on some of the watchers lips and deliberately stuck his tongue out, distracting them. The Aurors started, that he could be so childish and in their moment of inattention the spider popped out of existence.

       "Huh?"

       The blurted question came from the watchers who were still behind their shield at the far end of the Hall. Harry guessed that they'd been able to follow everything else, even if everything else was at times, things he should not yet be able to do, but the dispelling of a summon was not meant to be that easy. He shrugged. They said to show them what he could do.

       "Let's finish this," Harry invited, glancing between the second wave of gathered Aurors and the few examination professors who had pulled themselves away from their fallen companions to continue the duel. 

       Harry flicked his wrist, returning the Sword of Gryffindor to his aura before he slid his wand back into the holster in the small of his back. With his hands free he brought them together in front of him, cupping them as he gathered the power. The Aurors and Professors were attacking but his sheltol was holding. 

       A soft gentle light pooled in his hands and he pulled them apart, making the light bigger before he nodded. 

       The shadows had been waiting and rushed forward to consume the light he offered to them. They greedily ate it and as he replenished it, further shadows came forth to partake of the bounty. The power sphere in his hands changed from light to dark but kept growing larger with each moment, and it was with sparkling eyes that Harry raised it over his head.

       With a sudden motion he pulled his hands down, flinging light shards everywhere. The shadows scattered, pursuing their food, and Harry grinned as they whipped around the room, knocking out both the still attacking Aurors and Professors.

       A few even slipped through the defensive barrier of the watchers and knocked one or two of them out.

       It wasn't as chaotic as it looked. Harry hadn't just released his servants without restraint, no matter what it might look like to anyone watching. He didn't control their entire movement but he had made it clear to them that they were to do no more than to knock out his attackers. They were not to eat any of the Aurors or Professors, or Order members’ light. Not yet, not now. 

       He wasn't ready for it and he couldn't reveal himself.

       They had agreed easily, and for the little chore that this was, they had been well feed today with what he had given them anyway.

       From the far side of the great Hall there came the sound of one pair of hands clapping and Harry looked over tiredly to see Sirius standing there. "Absolute victory," the man said looking around as he moved into the room.

       There were three piles of people - the examination Professors, the Aurors and the members of the Order - and all of them were unconscious. A few of the watchers were also unconscious and were already being tended to by their companions. Some of the watchers began moving towards the others to begin helping them.

       Sirius walked up to Harry, laying one hand on his shoulder gently. "Are you okay?" he asked.

       Harry smiled wanly, nodding. "Just a bit tired."

       "It's to be expected," Sirius said. "You're still not of age." The animagus turned black eyes towards Professor Tofty, who was carefully approaching Harry. "You've got enough information for his examination?"

       "Yes, yes, more than enough," the old wizard said. 

       "Good, then I'm sure you won't object to me taking Harry, so that this," he flicked his free hand in the direction of Harry's opponents, "can be cleaned up."

       "No, no, that's fine," Tofty said. "I just wanted to congratulate young Harry on a job very well done."

       "Thank you, Sir."

       "Now go, your Godfather is right. This will resolve itself faster if you aren't here."

       Harry nodded and allowed Sirius to steer him from the Great Hall. However he didn't miss the way his Godfather was muttering under his breath and he rather imagined that Sirius would get very little sleep tonight because one, he'd get lectured on showing his abilities so openly and two the Aurors would no doubt want an explanation from the Order about how it was possible for a fifth year student to be so powerful.

       He shrugged. It wasn't his concern. Not yet. The outcome of today should get him into combat quicker, which would hopefully allow everything to finish sooner.

       Probably not, but at least he would feel that he was moving in the right direction.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darkshale - Casts darkness around the individual targeted meaning that they can't see and thus can't fight
> 
> Gomu Gomu - Rubber (anyone watched One Piece?)– A curse that makes your body behave like rubber
> 
> Italosi - isolate – sensory deprivation curse
> 
> Komarachni - 'Come Arachnid', Come Spider - Summoning spell for a spider, similar to Serpentosia
> 
> Lohalgewing - Howling Gale – fairly self-explanatory
> 
> Omiasma - Miasma – usually an evil aura or like but in this case an obscuring mist
> 
> Pel'sled - long, multipurpose charm that removes or disables other charms. It's the word 'De-spell' rearranged.
> 
> Shatterous – shatter – breaks things
> 
> Sheltol - contraction of Shelter and Total - Total Shelter – a very strong shield.
> 
> Solaris - Like a very bright version of Lumos, but also creates natural sunlight so is good for use against vampires.
> 
> Sonici - Sonic - A sound attack utilizing sound waves to paralyze the target
> 
> Tsukiyoru - Tsuki = Moon, Yoru = Night - Moon Night - Dampens the light from a Solaris charm into the more gentle light from the moon.
> 
> Zephyr - Wind to blow away the obscuring haze.


	10. The Information On Hand

Weapon  
Chapter 10 The Information On Hand

===

       **S** irius stroked back black hair as emerald eyes blinked sleepily at him. He'd escorted Harry from the Great Hall after his duel with the Aurors, Order and Examiners and his Godson had made it to the stairs before he'd collapsed and had to be carried.

       He should have been expecting it. His godson was eager to prove himself and had possibly revealed too much of his abilities. The animagus could almost hear the Aurors... _discussing_ things with Albus through the bond of the Order. Those Aurors who were still conscious were not taking well to being beaten up by a fifteen-year-old boy. But... they could work with this situation, and it would only strengthen the position of the Order and in the long run, the more dependent on the Order the Ministry was, the easier it would be to destroy them utterly. For now though, they would have to play to Harry's obvious exhaustion from the battle.

       While he had won, he was tired and that could be used to sooth the Aurors since most of them, when they woke up would be fully rested. They, the Aurors would be comforted by the fact that victory had taken everything Harry had to give.

       This time.

       Black eyes glittered with mirth. It might have exhausted Harry to wield that much power this time, but he was not yet of age. His power was great but it had not matured and his body couldn't handle extended usage of it. That would come with practice and maturity - of his body, and his power. Sirius doubted that many of the Aurors would truly understand what that would mean.

       They had been defeated by a boy who couldn't fully utilise his abilities simply because he was too young, but once he gained the maturity, and it was maturity the Order would be rushing upon him, Harry would be able to use his full abilities, at full power almost indefinitely, and then...

       Well... Sirius smiled softly down at his Godson who had fallen asleep during his brief introspection. As he had told Remus, they - the Order, and he suspected soon the Ministry - had put Harry into the position where his will would decide it all, but yet they had not checked what his will truly was. They deserved what they were going to get. It would be an interesting time.

       He knew he should feel some urge to warn them or to protect the Order but somehow he couldn't do it. Every time he tried to speak about it he would remember wide green eyes clouded with pain, the way he had seen them in the memories of Harry's time with the Dursley's, or he'd see them mirrored with fear, the way they had been when they had rescued Harry from the Dark Lord, although rescued was a relative term, and his heart contracted sympathetically. He had no idea of the pain his Godson had endured, he didn't want to know, but he knew that if this would make Harry happy then he would support it. It wasn't the Order or the Ministry's fault but every time he remembered those eyes he was reminded that his Godson was his life and he owed it to the memory of Lily and James to make sure that their child was happy, even if that meant destroying everything they had held dear, everything they had died for. They would understand.

       Harry wouldn't be able to sleep as peacefully as he did if they didn't understand.

       And so he remained silent.

       Sirius rose from the bed, making sure the covers were snug around Harry before he flipped the curtains closed on the canopy. He should go help Albus argue that Harry's abilities were appropriate for one who was expected to go against the Dark Lord. After all, how did they expect Harry to win against a man who could destroy any of them with a mere flick of his hand, who's abilities they all recognised as overwhelming, if his own abilities were not overwhelming to the ordinary wizard?

       Logic had never been the Ministry's or the Auror's strong point, not as organisations. The canine animagus hoped the individuals here would see the point. He wasn't sure what they would do, or even what could be done if they didn't acknowledge it but if they didn't see logic, or at least see Harry as a weapon they could use to fight then things were going to get messy.

       Just before he pulled the door closed he cast black eyes around the room looking deep into the shadows. They seemed to blink back at him and Sirius smiled, closing the door and casting a minor security charm on it before he turned to exit his quarters. It was comforting to know that Harry was never alone.

       Right now he wasn't sure he wanted to leave Harry alone.

===

       Albus forced himself to remain calm as several Aurors shouted at him together. They were not happy with this afternoon's proceedings and were demanding 'answers'. Although what answers he could give them beyond what they already knew was anyone's guess. His office seemed crowded with so many people in it, and some of the paintings had made themselves scarce, preferring to find somewhere quieter to spend their evening, or more likely, preferring to watch from a place that was not so obvious. Albus could see some inconspicuous clusters of watchers on one or two of the paintings that were shadowed. Other's had chosen to remain in full view, glaring down at the rooms occupants as the conversation shifted around them.

       Some of them shared his frustrations with the Ministry's representatives as evidenced by the scowls on their faces while others sat with studiedly neutral visages. Old Studenhauge looked as pleasant and as harmless as always, smiling benignly at the Aurors but Dumbledore knew that was a ruse. Studenhauge had one of the keenest minds, and sharpest tongues of all the paintings in the office, and always offered some of the best insights. Her analysis of this meeting would be interesting... if he could persuade her to speak. She was firmly of the belief that the living had to deal with their own problems.

       Albus blinked once, carefully as his eyes roamed over the crest of Hogwarts that was above the door. He could have sworn that the animal totems blinked at him and as he kept his attention on the Crest, without looking at it he nodded to himself, understanding. It appeared Harry's power was watching, even if the boy could not.

       A particularly loud shout reminded him to pay attention to the Aurors but Dumbledore didn't really know what to do, not completely anyway.

       What did they want him to say? Did they want him to say 'No, don't worry, it's just an illusion that you got defeated by a fifteen year old boy'?

       It wasn't and they had to accept that and the more important point that if Harry could defeat them, then Voldemort could defeat them. They should use their experience with Harry as a learning opportunity to see the flaws in their techniques and to improve. They wouldn't though, not until he pointed out that it was essential and that nothing would change until they did.

       Or perhaps they would accept it if he pointed out that Harry belonged to the Order of the Phoenix? He didn't want to do that though, didn't want to be so blatant in stating that Harry was the only weapon capable of fighting and winning against what Tom Riddle had become, and that frankly, they should be on their knees thanking the powers that be that they had been defeated today, because that meant that Harry was on the way to fully harnessing his power. And once Harry fully controlled all his power, then they, the Light could really begin to fight back. Everything now was just a pre-cursor, just waiting for the time when they could really fight.

       And if Harry's demonstration today had been any indication... that time was closer than he had thought.

       Albus smiled at the idea and was mildly surprised when the Aurors fell silent, most just gaping at the expression on his face. "It pleases me that you are so concerned," he said conversationally. "But I am forced to question exactly what it was you were expecting?" Perhaps he could make them reach the answers themselves. Fawkes trilled softly to confirm the question.

       Before any of the Aurors could answer the gargoyle moved and Sirius entered his already crowded office. The animagus cast a dark look towards the black robed Ministry servants before he turned towards Dumbledore. "He's asleep," Sirius said quietly, moving across the office and taking a seat next to Remus. "He won but it took everything he's got," he added, mostly for the benefit of the Aurors.

       Dumbledore nodded. Harry would be as good as new in the morning and prepared to face his next OWL, Care of Magical Creatures, and he was fully expecting another Outstanding result. Marchbanks had already grumbled to him that it was not usual testing procedure to get a dragon... Hagrid would be rapt if the examiners _did_ bring in a dragon but Albus was expecting something equally dangerous but smaller.

       Although the concept... that could be examined later.

       The Aurors were now questioning Sirius - Did he know of his Godson's ability? Had he taught him? What did he think of it? Was that really Harry? Would he follow orders? - and Albus braced himself for a brutally honest answer at the gleam deep in those pitch eyes. The animagus had never tolerated stupidity well.

       "Yes," Sirius roared finally, getting their complete attention.

       Silence fell throughout Dumbledore's office and Sirius continued softly making sure all the Aurors had to strain to hear him. "Yes, I knew. No, I did not teach him. I'm not surprised Harry has such power. The Dark Lord had to fear him for some reason after all."

       Dumbledore was careful to retain his grandfatherly expression at that wondering if Sirius had truly thought of everything here and if it was wise to reveal such information. The animagus continued though, unabashed.

       "Yes, that is really my Godson. Fawkes can prove that because he is a full member of the Order of the Phoenix and the question isn't if he can follow orders, rather, it's can you follow his?"

       The last brought an outcry from most of the Ministry's Representatives. The few that remained quiet had speculative looks. They had taken Sirius' comments seriously and were considering what that meant for the war.

       "When will he be able to fight?" One of them asked, finally, their voice and question was pitched softly and was almost lost in the rest of the random comments.

       "Now," Sirius replied, ignoring the way Remus squeezed his hand worriedly. "But I will not allow you anywhere near him or him anywhere near a battle field until he comes of age. A date which I'm sure you are all aware is rapidly approaching. I owe that much to Lily and James. After that, we will see. Despite the display today he has yet to finish his schooling and I refuse to let him be used as a weapon now with no thought to his future and the skills he will need then."

       The Aurors who had almost, despite their beating today and the outright hypocrisy of the thought, to a man fallen in love with the idea of Harry fighting seemed taken aback by Sirius' absolute tone.

       "You can't do that!" One of the younger ones objected.

       Sirius turned flat black eyes towards them. "Want to bet?" he asked, the question a joke but his voice anything but. "I am Harry's legal guarding because that was the wish of his parents, and until he comes of age, that means you speak to me before you speak to him. And once he does come of age you may speak with him but there is a Ministry Law, one which I'm sure you are all familiar with that prevents Ministry employees from speaking with those still in school in an official capacity without at least notifying their guardians. I'll be expecting your owl, gentlemen.

       "And finally there is a dual Ministry stipulation that firstly ensures that all wizarding children must complete their schooling except when they so choose to leave but it further stipulates that even in desperate times the Ministry may not pull school age wizards away from their studies without first providing for their future in a world where they will be disadvantaged for not completing their basic education. So, should you make any effort to coerce Harry into heaving his schooling of his own will _I_ _will be_ asking for the proof of this second clause." Black eyes surveyed the room, daring anyone to dissent.

       Most of the Aurors shifted uncomfortably sensing the anger Sirius contained. He had for the most part fully divested them of their righteous anger at being defeated by a student and for a moment it seemed as if the meeting would degenerated into silence, neither party willing to speak for the risk that their words would be taken as a threat.

       Finally Dumbledore spoke. "I'm sure the Order and the Ministry can work together for the best possible outcome," he said soothingly, "for both Harry and for the ultimate defeat of the Dark Lord. I however, agree with Sirius that Harry is not to be approached until after he comes of age. After that we can speak to him about the various options that are open to him and we will use that time to develop these options. Right now, Harry is a child, we cannot forget that. His power, while impressive is also unstable and he is one who's power is unlikely to stabilise fully with a mere date."

       "You mean he's going to be even more powerful?"

       "Like you wouldn't believe," Sirius muttered under his breath while Dumbledore took a more conciliatory note.

       "Yes, we believe young Mr Potter's abilities will only fully stabilise when his body reaches full maturity."

       "But that could be years away!" One of the Aurors complained. "How are we meant to fight before then?"

       At last they came to the real question and while the Auror who had asked had done so in a complaining tone he understood the problems they were facing.

       Sirius shrugged and with remarkable good humour, spoke. "Harry can help you but for the moment there will be limitations on the help he gives."

       "Such as?"

       "If there is to be a Hogwarts Guard, Harry is to be assigned to that but will be excused from most duties to attend class. He will, of course, as a Member of the Order fight if the castle is attacked but he will not be available for every battle. If there is an absolute emergency elsewhere you may call upon him but the final decision on that will be left to Albus Dumbledore. I want to protect him from being used continuously as a weapon. There is more to life than that, and Harry like all others must be allowed to experience that."

       "Why are we so concerned with one adolescent wizard?" One of the Aurors grumbled. "He's strong, sure but he's not that important."

       Albus turned towards the Auror, a soft deceptive smile on his lips. "Who else is going to fight Voldemort?" he asked mildly, using the name deliberately.

       The Head Auror, who had been silent until now, nodded carefully. "It's true then," he murmured, looking over at the Head Master.

       "Yes, it's true," Dumbledore replied.

       "I thought as much, I just did not expect it to be so plainly laid out. We will abide by Mr Black's restrictions with one alteration. Where we are planning a major battle, we reserve the right to plan Mr Potter into that battle in advance, that way any interruption in his classes can be ameliorated as much as possible. Although," the Auror sniggered slightly, "from the looks of things he could probably be teaching some of the classes."

       "Probably," Dumbledore agreed amicably, before he became serious again. "The Order will provide training for Harry over summer and work on stabilising his power and finding out the limits of his abilities so that no one is expecting too much and no one is left gapping when he does strike."

       "I will be expecting a full report then, and him ready for combat when the next semester starts. All information will of course be kept confidential to myself, the Minister of Magic, those members of the Order you tell, and to the Auror Battle Captains Harry is assigned to, and even then information will be on need to know basis, although I imagine Harry will be assigned in a sub-group under the command group."

       Sirius nodded. "That should be acceptable. We will keep you informed of his progress," he added with a clear note of dismissal as he rose and turned back towards the door. For now, he had more important considerations.

===

       **S** nape shivered as he knelt. There was a sickly feeling in the back of his throat as he resisted the urge to look around surreptitiously. You could do nothing covertly beneath the gaze of the one watching him. That was one of the first things he had learnt but that wasn't a concern, yet. He wasn't sure why he was here, and that was the problem leading to his mounting unease.

       Usually when the Dark Lord summoned him, he was given some indication about the information Lord Voldemort was interested in. This time the Serpent Lord had simply made one excruciatingly painful call through the dark mark instructing him to attend him as soon as possible. And so the Potions Master had made his apologies to Dumbledore, whose narrowed eyes showed that he also was startled, left Hogwarts and apparated immediately.

       Severus had glanced to black robed red masked attendants flanking the Serpent Lord before he'd knelt. Elites. Not necessarily more powerful than any other Death Eater but fanatically loyal and completely unknown. They were a part of the reason the Order was having so much trouble dispelling the fear of Voldemort. You could work next to them, drink butterbeer with them, engage in gossip, pass them on the street and there was nothing to identify them, until of course they stood against you on the battlefield, more than ready to take your life in the name of their Lord or approached you with a smile, and a dagger behind their back.

       They were completely unknown and exceedingly dangerous, with their identities only known by Voldemort. Their only drawback for the Dark Lord was that they were not good for recruiting. They were too well hidden. But right now that wasn't Snape's concern.

       If the Dark Lord had human guards he wasn't as relaxed as they had thought he was... Or he was expecting trouble from him... Severus gulped at the thought as a new wave of cold passed through him. He really didn't like not knowing what Voldemort wanted.

       "Severus," the Serpent Lord spoke and Snape could almost hear the smile in his voice. It was not comforting. "It has been too long."

       "Yes, my Lord," he said, thankful that his voice didn't quiver. There was always a certain amount of fear when he was summoned to see the Dark Lord, but the only time he could remember being this afraid was the first time after he'd agreed to spy for the Order.

       The fear wasn't just originating in the fact that he didn't know what Voldemort wanted now, it was coming from the whole situation. The Order had stuck at one of the Dark Lord's bases with the vampire's aide, confirming that those dark creatures were committed to their course of opposing him which would no doubt pull the Dark Lord in a foul mood. In addition there had also not been anywhere near enough bodies from the aftermath of Lucius' failed rebellion so Snape fully expected the Dark Lord do be looking for an excuse to lash out at anything and that included anyone he suspected of being not entirely loyal, and Severus was well aware what the Dark Lord suspected him of. He was under no illusion that it was his use as a spy in Dumbledore's own house that had kept him alive until now but in a fit of pique, the Serpent Lord could easily forget that, especially if Voldemort thought Harry was a viable alternative...

       And that was the other reason Snape was scared. If what he suspected was true... He had to confirm that, not for Dumbledore, for himself but he couldn't think of any way of raising such an issue short of the Dark Lord revealing the information himself.

       "I have been hearing some unpleasant rumours, Severus, about my spy within Dumbledore's precious Order, but I am sure that they are just that, rumours. Hmm?"

       Snape had learnt early when dealing with Voldemort that there were some things on which you could admit to minor, _very_ minor errors, in fact it was almost a game but on the question of loyalty... well, that came down to the fact that if the Dark Lord had a question then you weren't loyal. You could admit to nothing there. And with the events just past, he had meant what he said to the dog and reporter in Dumbledore's Office. Right now there was only one faction following the Dark Lord and he had to appear as a part of that unified faction.

       "Rumours about what, my Lord?" Snape asked, trying to project a tone of mild, unworried inquiry.

       Voldemort smiled. As always Severus was calm and collected, even when obliquely threatened. There was a reason he had let the Potion Master survive for so long, even with the questions of loyalty hanging over his greasy head. The man was trapped between the improbable - the light prevailing - and the impossible - escaping from his services - but it was always a delight to see him walk that fine line.

       "There have been questions wondering how Ferous base could have fallen so quickly and so easily when so very few of my servants knew its location."

       Severus suppressed the urge to gulp. He should have known he'd be suspected for that, even though he was innocent. Still, he had been careful to find out exactly how Dumbledore had known about that base. Hopefully Voldemort wouldn't find his explanation too convenient, even if it was the complete truth. If he hadn't of known that the vampire cared nothing for what they deemed to be petty human squabbles Severus would have thought that perhaps the ancient being was deliberately trying to put him in a difficult situation.

       "The fall of Ferous Base was a gift my Lord, from the vampire elder Xeoaph to Dumbledore, to show that they, the vampires were committed to the rather incomprehensible goal of seeing your demise. I have not yet been able to ascertain how the vampire discovered the base's location though, my Lord but I believe, regrettably it was through chance."

       "A gift?"

       Snape didn't need to look to know that blood red eyes were hooded dangerously. "Xeoaph's words, my Lord, not my own," he murmured.

       "It makes a rather interesting gift and puts me in a somewhat difficult position for I have any number of loyal followers who know that you were the only one who knew about the base and are connected to the Order. They trust that I will take appropriate action and trust is a very difficult thing."

       This time Snape did gulp and even though he knew he could hide nothing he began gathering himself. He couldn't win a fight against the Dark Lord and two Death Eaters, but if it came to it, he refused to go without at least trying. And if he could run... he would run.

       Something slammed down upon him, like a physical presence but magical, driving him down to the stone before the Dark Lord and Severus hissed as the air was driven from his lungs.

       "I thought you knew better than that, Severus," came the cold jeer as the Potion Master struggled furtively against the restraint. "I'm not going to kill you and while I do believe you are innocent of allowing Ferous Base to fall, you are going to have to be punished for even thinking you could escape me. Latter though, for now I wish to know how Dumbledore's only hope is progressing."

       "Potter?"

       "Yes, young Harry Potter," there was a completely different note in the Serpent Lord's voice as he murmured the name, a note that was entirely too pleased, too sated, and all together far too _smug_ for Snape's liking. It seemed to confirm everything he suspected but at the same time gave nothing away. Voldemort could still be gloating over his 'conquest', something Potter hadn't really spoken about.

       Or could that..?

       He shivered as a new possibility opened itself to him, thankful that his reaction would simply be taken as the anticipation of punishment, not for what it truly meant. Could it be that Potter had been so... dominated by the Dark Lord that he had agreed to follow the older man? It wouldn't be the first time that the Serpent Lord had used any means necessary to achieve his goals, it was just not a means that one suspected the Dark Lord would employ when dealing with an enemy. The boy was not submissive either... It would have been a dangerous coupling.

       But it could potentially explain things. Given the difficulties Harry had faced throughout his life, he may have been subconsciously looking for someone to protect him... and Voldemort could have played on that fear, offering the boy affection, attention and a form of protection that would appeal to one who had suffered as Harry had. To be owned, to be touched only by one person, to know that you never need risk being touched by another... That could have been appealing to Harry, especially since he knew the Dark Lord both could and would carry out the threat to kill to protect that which he thought was his. And in return all Harry had to do was be loyal, to turn towards him at the most precipitous moment, to throw the Order into disarray and allow him to win. Then, he would take care of everything.

       It was a dark kind of love but it would be comforting, consistent and reinforced by every show of strength Voldemort gave to Harry. It could be the reason he had turned. Absolute protection from one you _knew_ could give it was a very powerful lure, combine that with pleasure and acceptance and you had a arrangement that would appeal to an impressionable youth, especially if the Dark Lord had played on fears of years of war, emotional pain and being seen as an object, or if Voldemort had been his most charming, suave and charismatic.

       Severus gulped; even he would have been pushed to resist that. Not for the man himself, but for the knowledge that he would always be safe, that for him, peace existed because the Dark Lord ruled all. And maybe, cradled by a strong and comforting embrace, body replete with heavy lethargy, mind numbed by pleasure, the Boy-Who-Lived had given in to it all.

       "He is progressing, my Lord," Snape said carefully as the magical pressure abated somewhat, uncertain of what answer the Serpent Lord wanted. "I am unsure of all the details but Dumbledore believes he will be ready to fight by the end of summer."

       Voldemort seemed pleased. "So soon?"

       "It would be sooner, my Lord but he is having trouble working with the vampires, and of course, Dumbledore wants Harry to be completely ready should he encounter yourself in combat."

       The Dark Lord waved the last away, focusing instead on Severus' first words. "Problems with the Order's new alliance already?"

       Severus shook his head. "No," he clarified quietly. "It's more problems with Harry and his interactions with the vampires. The Order and Dumbledore is happy with the alliance, but as my Lord knows, the boy's power is light. I'm told he killed a vampire during his DADA practical. How though still hasn't been released to the Order."

       "He is controlling his powers now?"

       "Yes."

       Voldemort almost seemed to sigh. "I might almost have forgiven the boy if he'd destroyed the vampires," he murmured calmly, knowing Severus would see that as a reflection of his own desire, rather than any real expectation he had of Harry Potter. "How did he fair in his OWLs?"

       Snape blinked slowly steadying himself. Despite the fact that this was not going to go over well... had he just seen... a shadow? They were showing their support that openly? Did they really support the Dark Lord? Or was that just a ruse? _Later_ , he cautioned himself, wincing imperceptibly when his mind supplied the addition, _if we have a later._

       "While his results are not public, not even to the Order, the examiners were all talking about how well he did. I'm given to understand that he shattered all previous records - how will require more time to determine."

       There was a chuckle, more a hiss of pleasure from the Dark Lord, and the Potion Master hid a spike of surprise. Voldemort was pleased? In terms of power, Harry had been able to match the Dark Lord for short periods of time and that had angered Voldemort in the past. Now he was informed that the boy would potentially be matching him in terms of knowledge, at least in the daily usage of magic and he was not raging? There was something else here. Harry _had_ to be serving him somehow...

       "Do not waste your time, I already know how. Tell me rather of the training they have planned."

       "Dumbledore plans on focusing on combative magic rather than theory although there will be some. The Order will focus on pushing Potter to reach his animagus form to allow for as many advanced concepts as possible to be introduced to him."

       There was a serpentine hiss sounding vaguely angered. "What is his form?" Came the demand.

       "I do not know my Lord," Severus said immediately. "They have not yet requested the seeing potion from me."

       "Typical!" Voldemort snorted disdainfully. "What part will you play in Potter's training?"

       "They have not yet requested my aide."

       "Ah."

       Snape shivered. The note in that single syllable was not good. It seemed to indicate that his answer was a conclusion all of itself and the conclusion was not one favourable to him. They suspect you, they know you, they do not trust you. All those words were there. He had to regain something. "Dumbledore has not asked me to leave for the summer but they are neglecting the boy's Potion training and so I have not been called upon, however I am certain I will be necessary for drills in duelling and weaponry."

       "You had better hope so," Voldemort hissed, ruby eyes flashing dangerously. He already knew Severus was not telling him everything but if he was not in a position where he could tell him _anything_ then he had no further use for the traitorous Potion Master. It would be a waste of fine skills but he could not afford a traitor within his ranks. Not anymore. It was a game and he was good at playing but the time when he could humour Dumbledore and place the expected expectations on Severus was fast drawing to a close especially now that he had an even more perfect spy within the ranks of the Order, curtesy of his mate.

       The Potion Master would have to choose soon who he truly belonged to and while he would regret the loss of skill should Severus side with the fool Dumbledore that would not be enough to halt the strike. The man had made two mutually exclusive magically binding contracts and one way or another he would have to break one.

       "You will continue to report to me during summer. I will summon you and you will have information about young Potter's progress. You will not interfere, and you will aide in his training to the best of your ability. Do you understand Severus?"

       Snape nodded wondering vaguely and not liking the conclusions he was drawing about why the Dark Lord would encourage his enemies training.

       There was a serpentine hiss before Voldemort continued, his robes whispering softly as he shifted positions. "I will enjoy crushing their hope," the older wizard murmured.

       Severus nodded, as if agreeing with his Lord. The Dark Lord was still banking on the fact that he was stronger, that Harry's magic had not yet stabilised... Ah... he had to mention this. "My Lord?"

       "Yes?"

       "Potter's Coming of Age Ceremony is approaching but it will not be held at Hogwarts."

       That seemed to catch Voldemort's interest. "They will hold it at the Potter Estates?"

       "No. I do not know where my Lord but Dumbledore indicated that while the shields of Hogwarts are impressive, and the Potter Estates shields are keyed to him, that neither would be sufficient and so he had called in a personal favour for the provision of stronger shields."

       His words caused a slight stir from the guarding Elites but they were composed enough that their start could be mistaken for restless shifting. The Dark Lord though... Severus was hard pressed to conceal _his_ surprise as Voldemort simply nodded, relaxed and calm at the information. The Dark Lord's reactions just weren't adding up.

       : _To you,:_ came a whisper and Severus lowered his head, clenching his teeth as he focused on anything but that voice. Why here? Why now?

       "With Gryffindor's Power it will be necessary," Voldemort muttered before fixing ruby eyes back on the still kneeling Potion Master who was staring intently at the flagstones as if his life depended on it. "Look at me," he commanded quietly.

       Snape was thankful for the distraction and raised his eyes, cautiously, to look at his supposed Master with what he hoped was a sufficiently attentive gaze. Adoring, obedient, approving but not mindless, his psyche automatically provided the chant he had long ago perfected for the times when he was allowed to look upon the once handsome man.

       "You are one of my most skilled servants, Severus, from one of the oldest wizarding lines," Voldemort began softly and Snape mentally shuddered, knowing where the speech would end, later had caught up to him. "You very quickly grasped the truth during your formative years and so came to serve me at a young age and thus I have been graced with the services of one of the finest Potion Makers in generations and so it pains me when there are questions hanging over their head.

       "You have been my finest spy, Severus. No one else has ever gotten that close to Dumbledore and you know the information you provide me is priceless, and I have rewarded you thus. I have no wish to lose your services either as a Potion Maker or Spy but there is a limit to how much I can overlook."

       Ruby eyes blazed fiercely and for a moment it didn't matter that the Dark Lord before him was no longer human, Snape could sense the power he had been attracted to and under that gaze was tempted to cast himself to the Dark Lord's mercy because only that power could protect him, and only that power could give him his desire. It was a dark attraction. The almost constant pain from his Dark Mark vanished and he could feel waves of pleasure emanating from it, washing through his body, leaving him feeling heavy and replete. This was the power he had sworn his oath to, that he had agreed to obey for eternity...

       This was the power I fought so hard to escape! Severus growled to himself, fighting as his body wanted nothing more than to prostrate itself completely before the Dark Lord, begging forgiveness for even thinking that the Light could be correct path. Deliberately he remembered the absolute pain of his induction into the Order, pain that had washed away, somewhat the darkness that had tainted his soul, pain that rivalled the cruciatus curse, pain that he had embraced whole heartedly because it was the only way to salvation.

       "Ah... you always were strong," Voldemort broke the feeling with a hissed laugh and the Potion Master almost collapsed, shivering as he realised how close he had come under that dark power to throwing it all away. "My mercy though is not infinite and my tolerance not unbounded. I know of the phoenix that is even now quivering on your back and I know what you are hoping for. It will not happen.

       "The time is coming Severus when you are going to have to choose, once and for all who you will support. Dumbledore and I have always played to win and the time when we can humour indecisiveness is fast coming to an end. You are running out of time Severus and I am running out of patience."

       Blood red eyes glowed and Snape could have sworn he could see the serpent moving behind them. He tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible because he sensed that unless he was going to grovel immediately to reaffirm his oath, the Dark Lord would not take any communication kindly.

       As the Serpent Lord raised his hand, and an iniquitous light appearing in his eyes, it almost didn't feel like it was happening to him. Severus just watched calmly, knowing what was to come and made no attempt to brace or otherwise protect himself. It would have been futile anyway.

       _"Crucio!"_ It wasn't until the pain actually started that Snape felt like it was happening to him. He gritted his teeth against it as much as he could but as every nerve ending, and every muscle shot waves of agony though him he couldn't hold back any longer and screamed, writhing on the stone in a vain attempt to reduce the pain.

       Red orbs, made all the more fierce by the stark whiteness of serpentine features and skin, watched impassively and it was only when specks of red began flying from Snape's mouth and his screams became liquid, indicating that his thrashing was causing internal damage, did the Dark Lord release the curse.

       Severus gasped for air, drawing himself back into a position of reverence in an as dignified manner as he could manage when every bone and muscle ached. Voldemort had gotten stronger, the pain told him as much and while it was an interesting piece of information it did nothing for him here.

       He didn't notice the lumpy hessian bag that appeared beside him until the Dark Lord spoke.

       "Take that with you, Severus. Give it to Dumbledore." Voldemort rose and as he walked towards a shadowed side entry, flanked by the two Elites, Snape shuddered as the Serpent Lord allowed his aura to pervade everything again. Just before he disappeared he spoke once more, murmuring words so softly that the Potion Master could barely hear them over the labouring of his breath but he felt them. "Dumbledore or me... do not disappoint me, Severus."

       As soon as the Dark Lord disappeared Snape collapsed, clawing at his arm and the burning mark that was still resonating with the cruciatus curse. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but it was the first time the pain had lingered in tangible form for so long. No doubt Voldemort was trying to teach him a lesson. After a few moments though the Potion Master tried to compose himself and with shaking, staggering movements he forced himself to his feet. He didn't want to remain in this castle any longer than he had to.

       He snatched up the bag, knowing by its weight and shape what it contained but not caring to check any further as he stumbled, trying to balance correctly. : _You know the trouble with Dark Lords is that they never tell you all your options,:_ the familiar voice whispered to him so gently he almost didn't hear it. : _You can always choose to follow us. We protect our own, you know that. You'd never need fear the Dark Lord, or the Ministry, or the Order,:_ they continued to murmur, invoking the sick feeling in the back of his throat to emphasise their point as his stomach felt queasy. : _You'd be free, Severus, free to follow your own pursuits and all that we'd request is every once in a while you make us a few potions. We'd even provide the materials... for them and for others...:_

       He tried to squeeze his eyes closed, tried to ignore the voice as he visualised his destination but the voice would not go away, and with everything that had happened he couldn't force himself to concentrate on the picture.

        _:Imagine what you could do! The potions you could develop, the recognition you'd receive... And you'd have all that with peace because we can give the wizarding world that, Severus... we will give the wizarding world that._

:Think _about it, Severus, think about it long and hard because Voldemort was correct on one count - you are running out of time.:_ With the final warning the voice faded and Snape could sense that the infinitely powerful presence that was the shadows was gone.

       But it would be back.

       It always came back.

       Just like the Dark Lord.

       Severus apparated, no longer caring at he couldn't get a fix on his location, no longer caring about anything but the need to get away.

       : _You will be ours, Severus_ ,: the shadows whispered at the now departed Potion Master. : _Because no one else can give you your desire,_ : they added laughing before the room fell silent, and everything was still.

===

       "I am here," Sirius said softly as his contact entered the small clearing. He moved forward slightly to detach himself partially from the darkness. The meeting was deep in the Forbidden Forest. He was familiar with the outskirts of the Forest but the Shadows had lead him deeper into it that he had even been. On the outskirts of the forest, the trees were well spaced, dry and there was only sparse and well defined undergrowth. In this section the trees seemed smaller, denser, their limbs tangled with each other forming a confusing and almost impenetrable mass. Smaller brush formed the undergrowth and Sirius could barely see ten foot passed the tree line in any direction. The whole place was slick with water and he could smell the sharp odour of rotting plants from where footsteps had disturbed the mass underfoot. He could hear the drip of water patting softly to the ground.

       He could see the stars here but it was dark, there was no moon but upon seeing who he was to meet, he now knew why the Shadows had chosen a moonless night.

       The Shadows had asked for some of his time, saying that they needed to talk with someone and that they thought it would be best if this time they had a physical presence; and so now he was standing, cloaked in shadows, trying to control his surprise as Remus flicked back his hood to look directly at him.

       : _Just follow our prompts,:_ the shadows murmured.

       "I wanted some clarification," Remus said without preamble. There was no need for introductions, not at this stage.

       "I know."

       "What is your offer, in your own words?"

       : _Offer?_ : Sirius asked silently. : _I knew you were up to something but this... you're trying to subvert the werewolves?_ :

       : _We prefer the term recruit._ :

       : _Does Harry know?_ :

       : _Of course._ :

       : _What's the offer?_ :

       : _Just let us talk._ :

       Inwardly Sirius nodded. It would be quicker and easier if they did that, rather than him continuously relaying their words. There was an odd shift in perception and he heard himself speak. "My Master wants what has been relayed to you."

       "Just so that I'm clear then, please, tell me, as I have never directly heard your offer."

       "Ah..." the Shadows seemed amused but Sirius shared Remus' curiosity. He wanted to know what the shadows were offering. He though, could always ask them why later. "We want the werewolves' support. We would prefer if it was your passive support but we expect, unfortunately that your support will require fighting in at least one battle. We will specify that battle, and will accept that some will not wish to fight but want at least fifty percent participation. The old, the young and those females carrying young are excused. Apart from that battle, we want the public acknowledgement of werewolf support. We don't expect you to say who you support but we will expect it explicitly stated that the werewolves support neither the Dark Lord Voldemort nor the Ministry Order of the Phoenix Alliance."

       "That is a lot to ask," Lupin objected.

       "We know."

       "We?"

       "We speak for our Master."

       The werewolf frowned. "I was lead to believe I would be speaking with your Master."

       The Shadows hissed at the implied insult but quickly countered, prompting Sirius to speak himself. "I rank equally with you within our respective communities," Sirius said before he asked an internal question. : _I do?_ :

       : _You do. We'll explain the werewolves later although you could probably convince Remus with some pillow talk,_ : the Shadows teased as they took control again.

       Remus took the hint. "I apologise," he said easily but sincerely. "The werewolves are not used to being dealt with honourably."

       "We apologise for any misconceptions."

       "You are still asking for a lot."

       "We know but we are offering what we believe to be an equal amount in return and are open to discussions on many things to compensate."

       "I know. You are offering sacrifices to swell our numbers, which will appeal to those pack members who wish to follow the Dark Lord. You are also offering Law Reform for those who wish to stay within the system and from what I have seen your replacement laws do seem equitable..."

       : _That's a lot to offer,_ : Sirius murmured.

       : _It had to be impressive to get their attention._ :

       : _So you're not going to deliver it?_ : he asked with a disapproving mental frown.

       : _Of course we are,_ : the Shadows seemed offended but the animagus knew that it took a lot more than that to truly offend them.

       "...And finally," Remus said, "you are guaranteeing this with a blood oath."

       :Blood oath!: Sirius shrieked mentally.

       : _It's no big deal,_ : the Shadows shrugged before speaking again. "Did you want something else?" They asked with good humour.

       Remus blinked. What else was there to offer? He shook his head, there was no need to be greedy and the possibility could be examined later.

       "I realise that you shouldn't doubt an offer," he said honestly, "but the werewolves have been betrayed so often and now you want something very large from us so we need the reassurance that you can actually fulfil your promises because if you can't we will have made enemies of both the Dark Lord and Ministry and this is not something I will allow my people to risk lightly."

       "The werewolves are lucky to have you as a leader," Sirius heard his voice say as his mental eyes widened. Remus was a leader? He knew Moony communicated with other werewolves but he'd never really given it much thought. What was a leader of the werewolves anyway? They had a structure that required leadership?

       : _We'll explain later._ :

       "We want the werewolves to hold neutral," the Shadows continued speaking to Remus. "Until the battle where your support is required, we will accept if the werewolves just wish to state their neutrality. When the dust settles on this war our Master will stand as the victor and we are giving the werewolves an opportunity to be associated with us from the beginning."

       "Yes, that is your intention and if it comes true you will be able to deliver on your promises to my kind and we are thankful for the opportunity to join with you but that doesn't explain how you will accomplish your goals."

       The Shadows, if they had of been able to would have smiled. "We are the power that stands behind the Dark Lord, that rescued him from Malfoy's Rebellion." The Shadows stepped Sirius' body forward and he could see the werewolf's eyes widen in recognition. Despite his best efforts there had been pictures taken of him in the Atrium.

       "That explains why I can't smell you," Lupin muttered.

       : _We have completely hidden you,_ : the Shadow's reassured Sirius before the werewolf continued.

       "So why don't you support him?"

       "We will but we support our Master above all else and in time the Dark Lord will either accede to us or be destroyed."

       : _Harry wouldn't allow that,_ : Sirius objected.

       : _You know that, we know that but Remus doesn't._ :

       "If the Ministry and the Dark Lord toe the line so to speak, they can both survive but given the adaptability of them both we rather imagine only Voldemort will survive us."

       "So why shouldn't the werewolves support him?"

       "Because he will not truly acknowledge your rights when it does not suit him, we will guarantee your rights with the Oath. We have the power to give you what we have offered and..." Sirius wasn't the only one to sense their hesitation.

       "And?" Lupin prompted.

       "And there is one more thing we can offer you. We don't really want to though as it has implications you may not be ready to accept."

       "What?"

       "There is a charm. Pretty much anyone can perform it but the more powerful, the better since it is tied into the very roots of magic. It is a strengthening charm and we estimate that it will work on about five percent of werewolves."

       "What does it do?"

       "It increases mental resistance to magically imposed changes."

       Lupin gasped, brown eyes wide, "You can't possibly mean..."

       "It does," Sirius felt his body nod. "But not in the way you expect. It is like the Wolf's Bane Potion but translates further with its own risks. Those who have enough mental strength for whatever reason will maintain their human mind even with the change of shape and for those capable of that the change is relatively painless. The only problem is, it doesn't always work."

       "What do you mean?"

       "Wolf's Bane Potion is more reliable because it always works even if it tastes disgusting but this is completely dependent on your state of mind. If you are distracted, if you are worried or concerned, if you are fatigued, or in any way not focused you will revert to a normal transformation. You have to want, with every fibre of your being to maintain control and that's why it's so unreliable... Because there are so many variables, it can work for one transformation but not others... Hence our offer of Wolf's Bane Potion instead."

       Remus nodded, understanding the reluctance now. Truth be told he had heard of a charm like the one they described... But all the literature he had ever seen dismissed it as a wishful fantasy, something that didn't work... With the restrictions they had just described though, it made sense why it was not used, and not known. Even so, he was still not convinced that they could deliver everything but they were viable to delay the Ministry and Dark Lord... which would serve their purpose anyway... They had certainly planned this well.

       "You are offering Wolf's Bane but that is a very difficult potion to brew. Do you have a Potion Master capable of it?" He asked carefully.

       "We do."

       : _You do?_ : Sirius asked, surprised. : _Who?_ : He was almost certain he was the only one apart from Harry tied to the shadows.

       : _You are the only one tied in such a unique way,_ : they responded, : _but we have others who have been seduced and are bound to our will._ :

       : _Who's the Potion Master?_ : He pressed the question.

       : _Severus Snape,_ : they grumbled the answer. : _We just have to finish seducing him but that will be complete by the time the werewolves agree._ :

       Sirius mentally narrowed black eyes. They were playing a very fine game but as he reached out he could sense the centuries behind them and knew they had been playing for a very long time. They knew what they were capable of and they knew how much time they would need to achieve their goals. Severus might not be theirs yet but, stubborn as he was, he would be by the time they needed him, if not by his own choice, then at least by circumstance and they were masters of controlling circumstance. He shrugged, he didn't like the man but he did recognise his skill as a potion maker, and it wasn't like he would have to deal with Snape that often. If he was necessary, he was necessary. Besides even if Severus had been seduced by the Shadows, that didn't mean anything had to change between them.

       While he had been questioning the shadows, they had continued to speak to Remus and belatedly the canine animagus remembered to pay attention to what his body was saying. "And we will allow you to examine their credentials when an agreement is reached. If you are not satisfied with their level of skill, we will stand open to renegotiate our agreement, or we will accept and recruit which ever Potion Master the werewolves desire, or you may declare the entire agreement null and void and strike through the blood oath."

       Lupin narrowed his eyes. "You are very accommodating," he stated blandly, fishing for a response.

       "We are asking a lot from the werewolves, it is in our interest to be accommodating, and to allow for bargaining on many points," the Shadows rephrased their previous answer.

       There was something else going on here and Remus didn't know what. They were powerful, he had no doubt of that. He'd seen images of this individual before and knew by reputation what they were capable of. The fact that he had been destroying vampires would bode well for them as well. On a more personal level he couldn't hear, smell or otherwise sense them. It was truly as if he was speaking with a shadow. Remus realised with a start suddenly wanting to run back to Sirius where it was warm and he felt safe. This whole conversation was not safe and there were too many things happening that he didn't understand. He didn't like that.

       But he had a duty to fulfil and he would do it no matter how uncomfortable he was. The forest suddenly seemed colder.

       "Are you reassured?" Sirius heard himself ask.

       Lupin nodded. "I understand more now," the werewolves said calmly although Sirius recognised the pinched lines around his eyes as being signs of anything but relaxation. He was tense. "I will relay your offer to the pack as being a viable if difficult option but it is an option which may suit us."

       "We thank you," Sirius said at the shadows direction. "Do you have any further questions?"

       Remus smiled. "Do you and your Master have any plans for the vampires?"

       "Plans?" The Shadows repeated the question through Sirius' body and he could feel their amusement. "Nothing quite that formal but there are certain rules to be observed between creatures of the dark and they have broken those rules and so must now suffer the consequences. If the Light wins, we suppose that would be different but one way or another we are going to see our Master victorious and so they will eventually learn, once and for all, that all actions have consequences."

       The werewolf nodded, grinning. For the sake of his people there were things he wanted to see happen and watching the vampires brought low was one of them, no matter how it happened. It was one of those things that was universal to all werewolves. "I will relay that as well, and while I might personally prefer a different path, I feel that the Pack shall lean towards either the Dark Lord or your Master. Whichever it is I thank you for your time and for your honesty," Remus said formally.

       Sirius felt the Shadows bow low. "We understand that the Pack will choose as it feels is best but we will like to remind you that the werewolves need only show their loyalty in one battle of our choosing. For the rest of the time the Pack may preach neutrality while allowing individuals to serve as they will."

       Lupin smiled some what sadly. He already knew that last point. Chaos. While the concept of being able to serve as the individual desired was appealing, in the end, when they were compelled to show their loyalty it would only lead to chaos. He wasn't sure what he wanted. He felt compelled to follow the light, to continue campaigning for the lawful rights of werewolves because it was only through law and the altering of wizarding thought and perception could they truly be accepted as magical beings but he knew many of the Pack were tired, and Voldemort was the strongest Dark Lord in centuries. If they followed him, even if it, in the end turned out the same as all the times before, at least that was a path they knew and it was possible the Dark Lord would win this time. At least it was a path they could survive on for another round but it was a path that was unnecessarily painful. But chaos was not likely to be better, even if it was the best offer they had.

       : _Say something!_ : The Shadows hissed at Sirius when he saw Remus' reaction. The animagus blinked and almost stumbled as the Shadows relinquished control of his body. Remus was pensive and that alone was not good.

       Sirius could tell that Moony's heart wanted one thing while his mind argued for something else. They had to align his heart with his head then they would have Lupin's support, and while the Shadows hadn't explained yet Sirius _knew_ Remus' support was necessary. "We are neither Light nor Dark, Mr Lupin," Sirius said and he knew his voice was pitched differently. Remus would know someone different was speaking. "We are not good or bad but rather we are what we need to be to fulfil our goals. We have entered the battle this time because we are tired of the continuous struggle for dominance and so one way or another we want to see it end, just like you do. And that is why we have made this offer."

       Remus' eyes softened slightly but he was not yet convinced and Sirius smirked as he realised what he needed to tell the werewolf.

       "I remember," he started again, his voice still soft in the dark of the forest but he saw Lupin come to attention at the singular word use. "I remember when I wasn't sure, when I thought that allying this way, with my Master, was the betrayal of everything I had fought for, was the betrayal of everyone who has died in this conflict but then I realised that living my entire life for war, living just to continue the fight, or living just stuck in the same continuous circuit of destruction and betrayal, that was the true betrayal of everything and everyone. We fight to see the conflict end, not to see it continue, and those who have died, died with the wish to protect, with the hope that their sacrifice would see their loved ones survive, but further with the hope that their loved ones would know peace. That is why, Mr Lupin, I can stand before you, knowing that I came to the Dark Lord's aid when once I would have died willingly to take him with me and why I know that if so instructed I will come to his aid again because I can now see an end to it all. I can see that my Master can do what the others cannot, that he can bring an end to the cycle of conflict.

       "That is how I know that there is no betrayal, that the greater wrong would be to continue as I once did, and how I know that at the end of it all, I will be able to face those who sacrificed everything and be able to thank them, for the gift they were trying to give as well as show them the peace that was wrought through their sacrifice and they will know too that it was not all for naught. It is this change, this ending that we wish to offer the werewolves, although we understand that not all of them will accept it initially and so the allowance to fight as individuals desires has been granted by our Master. In time though, he believes all will see the truth."

       Lupin was silent for many long minutes and the sounds of the forest intruded upon them. The soft drip of water, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, a call of a bird and a dull hoof fall sounded from the distance. The rich loamy smell pervaded everything and Remus breathed deeply before he looked up again. The man's words had been those of the converted but they also were from the heart, from one who knew the pain of battle. Whoever this Master was, they had chosen well in sending this man to speak with him. "Are you happy?" he asked finally.

       "Yes," Sirius answered simply, allowing his sincerity to echo through the word. "But there is happiness I still seek because while my Master is an end, he does not wish to be the end of all things. He has his mate, his beloved, and I am seeking my own."

       Remus nodded. At least this Master did not wish to be regarded as a God.

       "One more thing," Sirius said as the Shadows prompted him to leave. "My Master does not offer the same thing to everyone however I can guarantee you there are rewards for those who follow but there is also freedom. I can promise that you and the rest of the Pack would still be yourselves and that nothing more than what you are prepared to give both as individuals and as a Pack shall be asked for." With that Sirius bowed his head and allowed the Shadows to wrap around him completely muffling his presence as he backed away, leaving Remus to his thoughts.

       He couldn't help but notice however that a good deal of the tension had faded from Lupin and in the back of his mind he could feel that the shadows were pleased.

       They were sure now that the werewolves would choose to follow Harry. And once that happened.... Well that was just the beginning.

 

 


	11. Power Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> $Blah$ Phoenix talk  
> -blah- parseltongue  
> :blah: shadow talk

Weapon   
Chapter 11 Power Awakening

===

       Dumbledore sat looking out at the fields of Hogwarts. It was a beautiful day and it seemed a waste to be inside but for the moment he had work to do. Still a few minutes off, just enjoying the scenery wouldn’t hurt.

       The fields were green, running back in the beautiful rich colour brilliantly bright all the way to the Forbidden Forest although even it seemed brighter today, a rich dark velvet green as opposed to its usual black. The shadow of mountains loomed in the distance, connected the ground a sky that was shocking in its intensity. These were the days he lived for. Peaceful, beautiful and calm.

       Fawkes trilled at him from the window sill. The phoenix had been flying, enjoying the day and the wizard couldn’t help a small ping of jealousy. Albus knew it was a fallacy but it would be nice to be able to fly away.

       $ _You never just fly if you are a phoenix,_ $ Fawkes said indignantly.

       $ _I know, I know,_ $ Dumbledore said easily, stroking the bird’s fire plumage. $ _Is everything all right?_ $

       $ _Not yet. After his Coming of Age ceremony I will be able to determine the situation more accurately._ $

       $ _Problems?_ $ Dumbledore frowned. In his interactions with Harry the boy had seemed fine.

       $ _He had a nightmare,_ $ Fawkes cooed sadly. $ _He was trapped and they were all around him and he couldn’t get away._ $

       $ _Ah,_ $ Dumbledore nodded. $ _What brought him out of it?_ $

       Fawkes frowned mentally. $ _The link with the Dark Lord,_ $ the phoenix said finally.

       $ _You don’t think that..?_ $ The Headmaster trailed off, uncertain how to phrase the question.

       Fawkes shook his head, his magnificent plumage throwing off sparks of light. $ _No, I know. The Dark Lord was not conscious of his actions and Harry has not and cannot be consciously controlled through the link but it does concern me that it is, at least partially two way. I don’t like the thought that Riddle could reach the Order through Harry, especially with his stunt during the duel._ $

       Albus stroked his beard as he thought. Harry’s mental capacity and ability to use the Order’s telepathic mental link during the duel had been impressive, even if somewhat surprising. Personally speaking, he had been thankful that it was Harry who had pinpointed the weakness and exploited it in mock combat rather than anyone else. He hesitated to think what could have happened if Tom or one of his loyalists had done it. Theoretically it was impossible for anyone not connected to the Order already but as galling as it was Tom had a history of the impossible and could devote a lot of skill to a problem like that so a few hours of intense work by Fawkes now was better than finding out the hard way. The precision of the mental attack had been impressive and Dumbledore couldn’t help but wonder if that was self-gained knowledge of if Harry had acted on Tom’s theoretical knowledge of mental links. Either way with the link between Harry and the Dark Lord the way it was, they were going to have to take more precautions. Harry had said he could sometimes see Tom but the last thing they needed was for Tom to be able to see him.

       “We’ll just have to add mental discipline, occlumency to his studies,” the ancient wizard said finally as a whoop echoed up from below.

       Dumbledore smiled as Harry flew at almost break neck speed over the ground. His robes whipped around him and he seemed to move with an almost liquid grace as he pulled his broom through manoeuvres which would make most professional quidditch players jealous. It was good to see that such simple things could still give Harry pleasure.

       $ _Weapons training as well,_ $ Fawkes noted, one fire red eye following a breath taking dive critically. The fire bird didn’t even notice the way his wings twitched involuntarily.

       $ _Yes... How did Tom pull Harry out of his nightmare?_ $

       $ _Nothing so formal,_ $ the phoenix said. $ _He probably felt discomfort in his mind and moved to get rid of it. I doubt he even knew he was in contact with Harry but I will still take the appropriate precautions. If it was just the nightmare I wouldn’t be concerned but there was an incident._ $ Fire eyes looked towards the Headmaster seriously and Albus pulled his attention from Harry who currently looked like he was dancing in the air.

       “Harry never mentioned anything,” Dumbledore said aloud.

       $ _There wasn’t much to mention but it is something to be aware of. Blaise confronted Harry during their OWLs._ $

       The ancient wizard gasped, twinkling blue eyes becoming frosty at the thought. “Mr Zabini didn’t try anything?”

       $ _No, it was more an exchange of words, blustery teenage posturing. But Blaise promised that Harry would never be forgiven for fighting the inevitable._ $

       Dumbledore sighed. The followers of the Dark were so predictable, even those who were outcast. “What did Harry say?”

       $ _He laughed and said that as long as he was true to his soul then no matter what happened there was nothing to forgive and that was why even though he understood, he would still fight, would kill because anything less would be abandoning his path._ $

       The Headmaster nodded, pinching his lower lip lightly with one hand as he considered the situation. “How did Mr Zabini take that?”

       Fawkes seemed to laugh. $ _He didn’t understand._ $

       “Did Harry explain?”

       $ _Yes. He said that there had been very few in the war who had been true to their desires. A handful; Voldemort, you, Lucius and precious few others. For them, no matter how their actions are construed, there is honesty because they had at least attempted exactly what they said they would do, regardless of the consequences and so others who have less fortitude should not dare to imply that there is anything to forgive because it is them who have not had the strength of their convictions. And so, no matter what happens he does not hate but he will fight for his own path... That’s essentially what he said,_ $ Fawkes noted as he fell silent.

       Dumbledore blinked as he considered the implications. A slow smile spread over his face and he looked back at Harry who was now weaving through the quidditch hoops. It appeared he had matured much more than the Headmaster had thought to understand that right or wrong, everyone followed their own path and all it really took to be strong was not to waver along the way. “Interesting,” he said finally, “very interesting.”

       $ _Indeed,_ $ Fawkes agreed. $ _He will be truly formidable once his power stabilises._ $

       “I was not expecting such maturity for years,” Albus murmured. “And while it would have pained me if Harry had killed Tom in anger, in hate, I was prepared for that, to help him work though the invariable problems but if Harry has already progressed past hatred... then he will become so much more than a mere weapon.”

       Fawkes nodded. $ _He’s not completely there yet, but soon... He is progressing._ $

       “Good,” Dumbledore sighed, turning away from the window towards his paperwork. “As soon as Harry recovers from his Coming of Age Ceremony we will have to retest his limits but I think, with training, we can have Harry ready by the end of summer. That should keep the Ministry happy and we can announce his status with his OWL results. That should serve to confirm that he is worthy.”

       $ _We should probably release Elliot’s article then or maybe to another strike with the vampires to fully instil confidence._ $

       “Yes, that would work,” Dumbledore agreed. “A new warrior, a decisive victory and that article will be nothing more than a desperate publicity stunt. The public need not fear.”

       Fawkes trilled and Albus was comforted by the song as he sat behind his desk. The road was still long but the end was in sight. The light would rule the dark... He would see that happen.

===

       Ollivander looked up as the bell chimed indicating a customer had entered his store. A small frown graced his features as he realised he hadn’t heard of couldn’t feel his customer, which either meant they were very skilled or very weak. With what was happening in the wizarding world he expected it to be the former. With a sigh he rose, placing the small file back on the bench as he walked between the stacks of wand boxes towards the front of his store.

       “Ah, I should have been expecting you,” the silver eyed man murmured as he saw who his customer was.

       Ruby eyes glittered from under a deep cowl. The robes were simple but the fabric was of a very high quality but they wouldn’t have attracted attention in the bustle of Diagon Alley and that had obviously been the intent. Most wizards would have seen nothing more than a fellow who was prosperous.

       “You do not object?”

       “It is not my place to object,” Ollivander said, motioning the Dark Lord further into his store before ushering the serpentine man through the stacked wands into the work room.

       Snake eyes flickered over everything, lingering briefly on the shadow in the corner before Voldemort entered the room. Ollivander was not offended. He knew his guest... well, that might be too familiar but Ollivander knew the minds of Dark Lords. It was his job to know.

       “But will you allow it?”

       The wand maker couldn’t help but smile slightly. Mr Riddle had always seen that the answer to one question was not necessarily the answer to all other questions and was prepared to ask the pointed ones. “Ah... that is a different matter.”

       The Dark Lord just looked at him, waiting for him to clarify.

       “I will of course expect that you are not found, and if you are, you will retreat rather than fight. I will not have my store become a battle ground,” there was a hint of steel in his voice. The restriction was imposed not because he was afraid for his personal safety, rather he wasn’t sure how Harry would react, and it was not something he wanted to see.

       “Of course,” came the hiss with a small nod.

       “Then you may stay, although I must warn you, it will not be what you expect.”

       “He is my mate, I doubt it will be ordinary.”

       “No, not ordinary,” Ollivander objected. “It will, even for you, be dangerous. There is so much power there and it will not bow to anyone. It will recognise you so it may not attack but if it senses even a hint of danger it will strike and danger may include non submission. It’s different for each individual.”

       “You speak as if Harry cannot control his own power.”

       Ollivander shrugged. “He will be in absolute control... When you came of age, Mr Riddle you were not awoken to the power of Slytherin. Your power did not have its own consciousness, so to speak. Mr Potter will not only be controlling his personal power, but also the power of Gryffindor and so it will be different for him. I’m not sure how but I know it will be different,” Ollivander trailed off.

       The human Coming of Age ceremony was not something which made a lot of sense to him. It was different for each wizard or witch and not all of them required seclusion. It was not really a ceremony per sae but it was a time when the individuals power wanted their complete attention and would not settle for anything less. That being said, for someone of Mr Potter’s ability, coming between him and his power was not really a good idea, not even for someone of near equal ability, at any time, let alone when it wanted its masters attention. Ollivander finally shook his head. The ceremony, such as it was, made sense when dealing with people like Harry, it just did not make sense for many lesser wizards or witches. In fact most of them slept through it.

       There were times when he understood humans, truly understood every petty thought and noble deed but then they would have contradictions such as this and he was forced to question himself. It didn’t happen too often but it was frequent enough that he was aware of it. Regardless though he was one of the few tenshi who understood at all. The Watcher.

       The Dark Lord regarded the protracted silence calmly, blood red eyes flat but patient before the wizard sensed something and nodded. “I will be careful,” Voldemort murmured, not truly fully understanding the wand maker but wise enough to humour him. “And in the end it will be Harry’s choice.”

       Silver eyes flicked to the shadow in the corner as it seemed to laugh but as the Dark Lord shown no reaction after a moment Ollivander shrugged. Either he was imagining it or they shadows would teach Voldemort what they wanted him to know when they felt it was time.

       “They won’t be here for a few hours yet,” the wand maker said. “Do you have other business, or would you prefer to stay?”

       “I will stay,” Voldemort said as he settled in the position Ollivander had motioned him to earlier, half closing his eyes as he took on an attitude of rest.

       The wand maker nodded moving back to his workbench, picking up his file and turning towards the oak he had been moulding. “Xeloc finally explained things to me,” he said softly and wasn’t surprised to see the Dark Lord shift at the name. “He was wondering how Xatarass was.”

       Voldemort smiled. “I should have known that eventually you would have found out, although this is recent. Xatarass is well. He is inordinately proud of his great$grand child.”

       “I only determined it because Xeloc asked,” Ollivander assured him. “Although you have probably achieved immortality in a number of ways besides. It’s not an area that lends itself to experimentation. Xeloc had been speaking with Xentor and neither of them have seen or heard from Xir for a while. They were wondering if he was with you?”

       Ruby eyes opened wide and Ollivander sensed the change as Xatarass came to the fore. It was more than just the physical change of mottled skin, sharp fangs and the acrid tang of poison in the air, it was also the aura that the Dark Lord manifested and the wand maker knew he was only seeing it because he was so studiedly neutral and all information was confidential. The man may have doubted but the Serpent within knew who and what could be trusted with such information and now with Xatarass awake, Voldemort was truly the Serpent Lord. “Trouble?” Even his voice was more sibilant.

       “They are not sure,” Ollivander said as he filed the wood, his mind thinking about the core for the wand. “But neither of them want another Xeau.”

       Xatarass hissed.

       Dumbledore had killed Xeau during the war with Grindlewald. The basilisk had been relaying the message that the serpent line founded by Ximir$Slytherin’s Basilisk$would not support that Dark Lord. Xeau had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had no intention of fighting but Fawkes...

       It had not been a good day for those of Ximir’s line and Xatarass had vowed vengeance for the death of his brother and the whole line was devoted to seeing Fawkes die. The serpents were patient enough that they would wait for Dumbledore’s death but the phoenix... Basilisks were almost immortal the same as the phoenixes so the two were prepared for a battle that would potentially last centuries.

       It didn’t concern Ollivander, he would remain neutral but it would be interesting. Those beings who lived for centuries developed relationships, or at least had passing contact with many other immortals. So long as they all understood that there could come a day when they may stand against each other, such acquaintances were beneficial. Of all the immortals, most accepted the tenuous and flexible arrangement for what it was, although amongst the more numerous or esoteric the relationship was not drawn upon. The vampires for example almost never talked to the others. The wand maker though, quite enjoyed speaking with those he could but while the rift between the basilisk’s and the phoenixes hadn’t yet spilled over into the relationships between the other immortals, it was only a matter of time. It would be interesting to see who sided with who.

       The basilisk line of Ximir was perhaps the most integrated with the wizards but they kept themselves hidden from most. Dumbledore hadn’t known but Fawkes had no doubt recognised the significance of the basilisk Xeau.

       Xatarass hissed softly with a strange duality of snake and man. “I will search for him. Has anyone heard from Xal, Xentor and Xuld?”

       “Not that I know of,” Ollivander shook his head as he lay the file aside. The wood was slightly too brittle but he had worked with worse before. He would just need to be careful when picking a core for it. It would need to have extra flexibility to account for the wood’s lack of ability. “They are probably with Xir.”

       “I will make it a priority then,” Voldemort said.

       Ollivander looked up. It was still surprising to see the basilisks care for others but in the case of mate or family they were ruthlessly protective. “Who had children?” he asked changing the subject. He had known that Xatarass had two grandchildren$Xentoth and Xar but he had not heard of either of them mating.

       “Xentoth has two children, Xeros and Xaos.”

       Ollivander nodded, picking up and then rejecting some unicorn hair. It had come from a stallion that was too old and set in his ways and would only enhance the fragility of the wood. “Both recent?”

       “Yes. Xeros is developing well,” Xatarass said, “But Xaos has exceeded all expectations.” The basilisk gave a pleased hiss and the wand maker could almost detect a smile

       “Really? What has he done?” Ollivander asked, looking at the plume of a fwooper. The wand wouldn’t be powerful enough if he used that and he couldn’t use a more powerful plume such as one from a phoenix since the wood would not support such power.

       Xatarass laughed, the sound odd but pleased. “Ah... that would be telling. But I am looking forward to the result. Xaos may, even though he is the youngest, become the heir to Ximir.”

       The wand maker frowned, his silver eyes clouding. “I didn’t think that was possible unless he joined with one of Salazar’s blood.”

       Ash from the remains of an ashwinder would be too fragile as would crushed fire crab shell. “And I didn’t think there was anyone of Salazar’s blood except your host, Xatarass.”

       “That’s true but that’s if you wish to be the Slytherin Heir. Ximir joined with Salazar because of power, not because of the serpent gift. Xaos may succeed us all in power.”

       Ollivander’s eyes opened wide... that would mean...

       “We are interested in power,” Xatarass hissed laughingly at the surprised reaction of the wand maker. “Salazar was very powerful and his gift sealed the deal with Ximir. My Lord Voldemort is similar but Xaos’ host...” Both snake and man smiled. “The arrangement there is something different. He will never be the Serpent Lord. I have taken that position but there are power positions of power.”

       “I did not think you would allow it,” Ollivander murmured, looking around his workshop for a suitable core. There was nothing here that caught his attention, nothing felt right for the wood.

       “Xaos asked himself and since there was a very real possibility he would merge with or without my permission, it was best to agree. It was also a part of the agreement so in the end I had no real choice.” Xatarass should have been upset but he wasn’t.

       “Agreement?”

       “Salazar once promised to protect Gryffindor so that he wouldn’t have to use his gift and as Ximir was bound by that, so too are we bound but my host also made an agreement when we joined that he would protect Ximir’s line in exchange for my immortality and our protection of his mate.”

       “Ah,” Ollivander nodded, understanding, although he was frowning at the wood. There was more with the agreement but it wasn’t his concern. “I was surprised when I heard you had joined with him, given the situation and all.”

       Xatarass seemed to shrug, a novel gesture for a serpent. “His body was made from the flesh of serpents and so it was a natural progression.”

       The wand maker sensed Voldemort resume control midway through the sentence. “It is an immortality of sort,” the Dark Lord added, signalling that that particular conversation was over. While Ollivander had been neutral for centuries there was no need to tell him everything. “Problems?” he asked in an effort to continue a conversation.

       The silver eyed man smiled. It appeared that Voldemort had achieved his goal of immortality although it was probably not exactly what he was looking for.

       There were several ways for a mortal to achieve immortality. He knew about them because he had watched for a long time; Philosophers Stone, Vampire Blood, mergence or memory. And for most wizards immortality was in memory. The Dark Lord hadn’t wanted that, although he already had it, and in all likelihood he had merged with Xatarass he had probably been the closest to achieving another form of immortality. Reduction to spiritual form, at the loss of body was not what he had been aiming for but it was immortality.

       “Only a minor one,” he said finally. “The wood is too brittle for most cores.”

       “Ah,” the Dark Lord blinked. “Oak,” he murmured looking over, “Loyal, steadfast, strong.”

       “Yes, but this wood is brittle so I need something flexible to balance it.”

       “Use blood,” Voldemort looked over at the vials.

       “Nothing is truly suitable,” Ollivander said. “Dragon blood would shatter it, unicorn blood is good as an additive but does not transmit enough power and most other creature’s blood isn’t powerful enough. It would be a wand but it wouldn’t be suitable for anyone.”

       “Use the blood of the wizard who will use it then. That way it will be as flexible as they are capable of and as powerful as the individual can be.”

       “True but the wizard would have to be very powerful to draw the magic through their own blood and the only wizards I know of that power level don’t need a new wand.”

       The Dark Lord laughed. “True, true,” he conceded. “But someone who is bound to us...” He trailed off. “Half fill it with dragon blood, a bit from every time,” he instructed suddenly, “and in time I will bring the other half of the core to you.”

       Ollivander arched one eye brow. It was a surprising statement but the Dark Lord seemed sure. “All right,” he agreed, laying the wood aside for later. “For the clarification of your immortality and the conversation with Xatarass I will.”

       Voldemort laughed his eyes flashing with the light of a basilisk. “It is only one type of immortality,” he said but feel silent as the bell jingled again, signalling the arrival of new customers. Customers who had distinctive and powerful auras.

       “The back room,” Ollivander said as he rose and walked back into the main section of his shop.

       “Albus,” Voldemort heard the wand maker’s voice echo as he moved weaving illusions around himself. “It’s been too long,” Ollivander continued but the Dark Lord heard no more as the door to the back room closed behind him.

       Now all he had to do was wait.

===

       Harry was bemused. It had been an interesting day and not what he had been expecting but then he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. He’d never really had a birthday before, well... not a proper one before Hogwarts. Every birthday he could remember involved the Dursleys, sometimes the men although if they knew it was his birthday, they had offered congratulations and quiet celebrations in the dark dead of night. Even once he had started school, while his friends had made sure he had gotten presents, his birthdays had simply meant more chores. So this one so far had been rather novel... although at the moment the power running through him was distracting.

       The shadows had been particularly active today, so much so that whenever he focused on a shaded area it literally seemed to be crawling. It wasn’t just him though. He had over heard the others talking about it. Dumbledore and Sirius had explained what would happen today but he was finding the whole experience odd.

       It tickled. He could feel his power moving on his skin but it was also tickling his insides. It wasn’t uncomfortably but it was distracting and he had been just slightly distracted all day.

       He’d woken to find several owls waiting with presents and had held off opening them until Remus, Sirius and Hagrid had come to the Gryffindor common room, although it had been quite a squeeze for the half giant to fit through the portrait. The presents had been from Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Mrs Weasley, Dobby and rather unexpectedly from Fred and George. The other tree had carried their own presents in and Hagrid had rather happily told him that Dumbledore had another few presents for him later.

       Harry had nodded feeling a duel pang from within. He’d barely seen Hagrid lately and that was making him feel guilty, although the emotion was lost in the distraction of his power, and the half giant had waved off any apology, saying that Harry was training so hard that he couldn’t think of everything. The second pang came from the fact that he couldn’t expect a present or even contact with his beloved... not even today... especially today.

       It had been fun, he supposed and they had spent a few hours just talking after he had opened his presents. Then, after some lunch, they had escorted him to Dumbledore’s office before everyone, after replacing Hagrid with Snape, had flooed to Daigon Alley where Dumbledore was now talking with Ollivander. Harry couldn’t bring himself to listen. Instead he looked around distractedly taking in the stacked wands and the almost haphazard composition of the store. It seemed crowded with them all there, Harry noted vaguely, remembering that even when it had just been him and Hagrid the store had seemed full. With Sirius, Remus, Snape, Dumbledore and himself, not to mention Ollivander, he was wondering how he was finding enough air.

       Finally the wand maker turned to him and despite his distracted state, Harry found himself drawn into the man’s silver eyes. Ollivander was calm and completely unfazed at the stock of people crowding his store. “This way, Mr Potter,” he said motioning Harry to the counter before placing his hand on his shoulder and guiding the younger man around the counter.

       Harry moved with the guidance but just stood as soon as Ollivander stopped guiding him. There was silence for a few moments before Harry realised that everyone was waiting for him to speak. He blinked a few more times as his brain sluggishly tried to come up with something appropriate. “Eh... I’ll see you in the morning,” Harry said finally.

       Sirius and Remus shared a long look before they both burst out laughing. Dumbledore looked mildly amused, blue eyes twinkling happily while Snape just scowled. Usually Harry would have been upset as his still chortling Godfather but right at the moment he didn’t care as Sirius stepped forward to embrace him.

       “We’ll see you then,” the canine animagus said seriously, ruffling his hair. “You’ll feel better then.”

       “Padfoot!” Remus objected. “There’s nothing wrong with him. Don’t worry him!” The werewolf turned to Harry. “It will be over in the morning Harry. Don’t worry about today though. This is normal and I know Lily and James would have been so proud.”

       Snape just rolled his eyes but Harry noticed how, as the potion master was looking around the room, the greasy haired man started suddenly, taking an unconscious step back at something. He followed the man’s line of sight and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Some staked wand boxes, a few odd papers, a curious little wizarding something and a shadow... Oh, that was it. His servants’ words came back to him clearly. ‘Snape was almost one of us,’ and Harry almost laughed at the real meaning there.

       “This way, Mr Potter,” Ollivander said suddenly, cutting off further thought and motioning Harry deeper into his store. Ollivander fussed and herded him towards a small door that was almost lost amongst the wand boxes. “In here, Harry,” he said, carefully opening the door and making sure that Harry ducked his head enough upon entry. “I will come by to collect you in the morning,” Ollivander said as he closed the door, “so please do not wander out until that time. You will find everything you need in there.”

       With that the door closed securely and Harry listened as it sounded like Ollivander was pushing locks home. It might be necessary, he wasn’t sure at the moment.

       Harry looked around. It was a small room with no windows and he could tell from the empty feel that Ollivander had moved out whatever it was that he kept in here. There was a single padded chair in the corner but there was also enough room to lie down if he desired and it looked like when he wanted sleep he’d have to because they chair was occupied by the Dark Lord who was watching him hungrily. Harry didn’t even blink, registering but not able to act upon the information and he simply flicked his eyes further around the room.

       The thrum of magic sounded in his ears and without thinking Harry looked around again, examining the shields. They were more than impressive and the only thing that Harry could compare them to was the overall Hogwarts shield, although the functionality of these was different. He couldn’t sense the outside and he was positive Dumbledore and the others could not sense him. Fawkes had retreated for the duration of the ceremony, claiming that outside influences were dangerous but Harry was suddenly certain that even if the phoenix had of wanted to he couldn’t sense passed these shields.

       _I wonder what made them,_ Harry thought as he stepped forward tentatively. He understood the necessity for such shields but wondered if perhaps the knowledge and means had been lost to the wizarding world.

       :Finally,: the shadows declared and Harry was startled by both their open joy and intensity as they descended around him.

       Darkness itself seemed to materialise and it danced around him, tickling his skin and Harry instinctually opened his power to the Shadows allowing them to eat everything they could.

       They were powerful, they were protective, they were his.

       Harry smiled as they began seeping inwards but his almost intoxication with his power faded sharply as agony blossomed through his body.

       _This_ wasn’t meant to happen. Harry gritted his teeth as he fell to his knees, a wave of power pulled from him, pinning the Dark Lord, who had been moving in response to his pain, in place. He grimaced before screaming as the shadows continued to pour into him. Despite his pain they weren’t concerned and were still intent on consuming as much light as they could. There was a roaring in his ears and in between gasping for air Harry wondered what he should do.

       This wasn’t like anything Remus, Sirius or Dumbledore had described. He could feel Xaos, the basilisk had joined with the shadows and was slowly materialising around him as huge comforting coils.

       :Change, Master!: The Shadows cried as Harry screamed again, feeling as if something was trying to rip his body apart from within but he understood the instruction and murmured the animagus charm between gulps for air as he tried to gather his power.

       As he said the words he could feel the power flowing through his body in an amount he couldn’t hope to harness. It was wild and free but it responded to the arcane words and the flow changed, and Harry felt the power pushing against flesh and bone as it sought to change his body.

       _No..._ he couldn’t... The cry was instinctive and Harry gasped as his power suddenly pulled in two ways. The Shadows continued to crawl around him, whispering soothingly as they encouraged him to change.

       “ _I can’t_ ,” Harry eventually cried, sobbing as he clawed at his skin. His back was on fire and his fingers and toes were throbbing with the magic trying to change them.

       -Master,- Xaos whispered. -It’s okay... Relax.- The now manifest serpent hissed butting his blunt nose into Harry’s crumpled form. He was designed to protect Harry from external threats and now that he was a part of Harry’s power he could not protect his master from himself.

       :Help him,: the Shadows snapped at the Dark Lord as Harry clenched his fists so hard that his nails cut the skin and the smell of blood filled the room.

       Voldemort nodded, rising against the power still beating at him. He reached out to caress Harry with his mind but was surprised at the welter of images that assaulted him, combined with an instinctual overriding fear. As quickly as he could, the Dark Lord closed the link, knowing that he couldn’t help Harry that way. He had a very strong mental presence but with the turmoil in Harry’s mind there was no way he would be heard, although he now knew what was wrong.

       “It’s okay,” he said, stepping forward as Xaos shifted to let him through. “Let go,” he added, allowing his body to shift as much as possible into the form of the Serpent Lord while retaining the ability to speak and to jump back if the power did not recognise him.

       -Let go,- he said again. -It is only a shell.-

       “No, I can’t.”

       -It changes nothing,- Voldemort said. -You will still be you and you will still be mind. Let go of the shell you call humanity. It is not necessary. You will not be considered less than human.- The Dark Lord said, trying to sooth his mate’s instinctual fear of the change of shape into his animagus form. The older wizard smiled as the power flows evened out slightly and he saw claws begin to form on Harry’s fingers.

       _So you are a predator?_ He thought, resisting the urge to examine the wicked cutting edges. Harry’s breathing levelled out and Voldemort vanished the tearing robes as the darkness swirled around Harry again.

       -You are more than human, beloved, and no matter what form you take, you will always be mine,- the Serpent Lord said, jumping backwards as Harry pitched forward, his claws causing sparks on the floor as two mounds pushed out from his back.

       :Finally,: the Shadows murmured, lapping up the blood that flowed from the wounds on their master’s back, as he continued to change.

       Xaos curled himself back around Harry, disappearing as he once again took up his position as a guard. He was trusted to keep Harry safe and he would do that no matter what form his master took. The Shadows wrapped themselves around Harry again, obscuring Voldemort’s vision but through the rising power levels he could feel he was thankful for their shielding, even if they were doing nothing more than gorging on the copious amounts of light Harry was emitting.

       He started when Harry’ screamed but was pushed back by the power and was shocked when the protective sphere of shadow seemed to crack, and light began streaming though... The energy was enormous and he heard the shadows straining as they tried to consume it all.

       :Down!: They screamed mentally as they scattered and Voldemort didn’t question, their tone was too urgent, too powerful for that. He just ducked.

       :Shield!: They added the demand.

       As a Dark Lord, Voldemort hadn’t survived for as long as he had without being able to pull off rather impressive defence and offence with little to no preparation. Now was no different except he’d never really thought that he’d be defending this desperately against his pet. He cast shields and felt the shadows reinforce them but gasped, pouring energy into defence as Harry’s power pounded against him.

       :Pull from our Master’s energy. Reinforce them that way.: The Shadows sounded desperate... afraid but it was a fear the Dark Lord could understand.

       He _knew_ Harry was powerful but he had no idea that he had _this_ much power. It shouldn’t be possible for a human... Ah... He smiled, a serpentine smile of satisfaction as he reached through the bond for power and was relieved as the pressure on his shields lessened as Harry’s power recognised itself. It shouldn’t be possible for a human to have this much power but he still did not yet know his precious’ animagus form.

       Voldemort looked up but could see nothing as the Shadow’s had woven themselves completely through the shields, reinforcing what they could. They waited and bother the Dark Lord and Shadows shared a sense of anticipation.

       Harry was theirs. They each owned him in different ways and so this overwhelming power was theirs but it could destroy them. It added a delicious tang to the force pressed against the shield. It was an indescribable pleasure to know that such a being, the only one who could destroy you, belonged to you.

       Finally the pressure faded and the shadows loosened their protective mesh. Voldemort blinked at the sudden light. :Thank you,: he said. They had needed his shield as much as he had but it would have been harder without their help and if he had learnt nothing else from his brief time with them it was that he should not look down upon their abilities. He afforded them the same respect as he did the serpents. They were, after all Harry’s direct servants, as the serpents were his. They deserved his respect. There was a feeling of acknowledgement but they were focused on other things...

       He turned towards his little one and froze... “By Salazar’s ghost!” He murmured finally.

       Harry had completed his animagus transformation and the shadows were now clinging to him. There was a pleased feel to them as they caressed every part of their master’s new form, familiarising themselves with it and Harry’s power. His precious was still effectively unconscious; Voldemort could see that as he examined the inhumanly beautiful form that was his mate.

       The power flows were almost visible to his normal eyes but were burningly painful when he tried to look at the magic. Harry wouldn’t be awake for a while, not when trying to assimilate that level of power.

       Voldemort licked his lips. That just gave him longer to admire the beauty before him. It wasn’t usual for him to just examine anything of beauty beyond how he could use it but Harry had always been an exception to that rule.

       Harry’s hadn’t gained any height with his transformation, not if you didn’t include his wings. If you did then he had gained a significant amount. Huge white wings sprouted from Harry’s back, arching up over his head before falling down over his body. His hands now had claws and Voldemort could see them on his toes as well and wondered if they were poisoned. His eyes were still emerald but now appeared to be almost liquid and the Dark Lord knew that they would hold a significant power of attraction. Male and Female alike would not be able to resist their lure, not when Harry wished it. But it was a gaze that could kill. Xaos ensured that. Beautiful and powerful. Deadly. Voldemort laughed in delight. Harry’s hair was still jet black and. While the clash between his hair and wings should have been jarring, with the shadows moving so freely around their master it was natural and the black and white complimented each other, only adding to Harry’s beauty.

       Although Harry’s body looked to be still human and was still as lithe and finely muscled as always, Voldemort knew it had changed significantly. Harry was a predator, arguably the strongest, purest predator known to the wizarding world - a tenshi. A being of pure magical energy and the Serpent Lord could see places - shoulders, elbows, knees, chest and hips - where Harry’s magic was no concentrated to the point where it would physically protect his body... That was if Harry chose to have a physical presence. As a tenshi he could alternate between a pure magical form, and a physical form. One intangible, magical and invincible; one physical, magical and invincible....

       Much more not even Voldemort knew since there was not a lot of information about them. Tenshi didn’t consider themselves a part of this world and so they had generally remained hidden, only interfering for reasons they never stated.

       And that was only if they were caught.

       Voldemort suspected they had interfered selectively in the wizarding world far more than was reported. After all for life forms of pure magic it would be easy to hide among those of rather inferior ability. The Serpent Lord smiled as he realised a few of the implications... Oh he was so going to enjoy the battles now.... Dumbledore’s surprise, right at the end was going to be sweet... so very sweet. But for now he had more important things to do.

       Looking upon Harry, Voldemort felt something awaken that he hadn’t felt for a number of years, something that was inherent in all humans but an instinct that was particularly strong in Dark Lord’s when confronted with a being like Harry.

       Innocence, purity, power.

       He wanted it, not to taint, although the taking often did taint but to _own_. He knew that this taking would not, could not taint. He did not possess enough darkness to ever taint the purity before him and it only made his desire stronger. He wanted it and acted without thinking. There was after all, only one way to claim possession of a mate.

       Voldemort knew as he grabbed Harry that his mate was still lost in the throes of power for his coming of age and thus hadn’t even felt the arms around his body but the Dark Lord was pleased to note that Xaos was not similarly distracted, surging into existence on Harry’s skin, red eyes blazing for an instant before the basilisk recognised the Serpent King. Xaos nodded, a serpentine smile in the flickering of his tongue as he faded. Voldemort didn’t note the gesture, he was too intent on claiming his prize. The sight of the serpent did serve as a reminder though. A basilisk could not kill another basilisk with its gaze, nor could they kill one they had bonded to and while Harry was his little basilisk he had not yet completed the full bonding ritual between two serpents.

       -Later!- Xatarass hissed at him, the serpent seemingly even more eager than him to claim the flesh before them.

       The basilisks presence faded from the Dark Lord as they merged and his skin mottled, regal excited patterns tracing their way over his body and his eyes flashed and split as power flowed through him. His already sharp senses came alive as the serpents inhuman sense of taste and smell activated. Harry was still the intoxicating scent of aniseed and vanilla with a tang of power that bespoke volumes but there was also the sharp scent of poison and the Serpent Lord recognised the taste of his own venom on his fangs, and felt the almost acid liquid now flowing through his claw like finger tips.

       Heedless the Dark Lord reached out, grabbing at Harry to turn his mate towards him. The poison flowing through him was just another way of claiming his mate and he didn’t even try to fight the desire running through him. Fathomless emerald eyes looked up at the movement but before anything more than the barest recognition registered, Voldemort swooped, claiming Harry’s mouth for his own with a kiss that left little doubt as to his intent.

       Aniseed, vanilla and venom...

       The taste combined like a spur, driving the older man on to claim everything utterly. This was something only he would ever be permitted, and this was something the Dark Lord wouldn’t just kill to protect, Harry was his mate and if anyone even thought of claiming his pet for their own, he would destroy them utterly, until not even that fools memory remained.

       Harry didn’t respond which did not perturb the Dark Lord as he could feel the power his mate was lost in. His precious might not be reciprocating just yet but the black haired boy had not pulled away. Long fingered hands ran down Harry’s back, tracing around the base of his mate’s magnificent wings and the Serpent Lord was surprised momentarily when Harry stiffened, back arching and his eyes widening before he melted involuntarily at the touch....

       Oh... so that was a sensitive spot? Voldemort filed the information away, laughing at the soft cry Harry made as he danced his fingers over the spot again before moving lower. One hand went to the back to squeeze at firm buttocks, and one had went to the front to tease and massage at Harry’s balls and slowly hardening cock as Voldemort pushed Harry up against the wall, causing his impossibly large wings to splay out each side.

       As Harry’s shaft rose under his ministrations the Dark Lord stepped back, breathless, to admire his handiwork.

       Harry was beautiful, no matter what form he took but in his animagus form there was now a sense of inhuman perfection that would just be impossible for any other creature to ever obtain.

       -Mine,- he hissed possessively, not truly conscious of speaking the word as he continued to gaze upon his mate.

       The tenshi stood against the wall, gazing but not seeing back at him. Harry’s lithe form was finely muscled and Voldemort knew that despite his angelic form and even without the help from the shadows Harry was physically stronger than him. It added to the excitement but right now his mate was standing like a statue, legs spread, arms resting at his sides, claws sheathed and wings flat against the wall in a beautiful display.

       The wings arched high above Harry’s head before folding over and coming down, brushing against his shoulders with the tips sweeping the ground. He radiated a knowing innocence and purity that appealed in the most primeval way to the Dark Lord. The phoenix tattoo of the Order marked his chest, the grey tones of its colours unusual but still enticing. What was more intoxicating to the Serpent Lord was the outline he could faintly see of Xaos, the basilisk’s coils wrapped protectively everywhere. Harry would never been a true Serpent Lord but... oh... he was more than a worthy mate.

       Covering it all though there were red welts, marks from Voldemort’s hands. The red lines were crossed everywhere on creamy skin but none had broken it. Tender marks of possession. Voldemort breathed deep, noting that Harry wasn’t breathless from their encounter before ruby eyes sparkled at the challenge. He grinned as he stepped back to his beloved, unable to wait any longer, his desperate need to dominate, to own, coming to the fore at Harry’s obvious perfection. Harry was his, and only his, that’s why he could do this, that’s why he had to make the final mark of possession.

       Voldemort stepped forward shedding his lower garments as he moved. He wrapped a sure long fingered hand around Harry’s erection stroking it briefly to make sure his mate knew he hadn’t forgotten his need. It was only a moment though before he bent his knees burying his face in Harry’s neck as he licked and nipped at the skin there, enjoying the taste of vanilla. Both hands moved to Harry’s thighs, reaching over slim hips and under soft white feathers to grasp his legs just below the buttocks.

       The Dark Lord lifted his mate and was amazed once again at how light Harry was. His animagus form was possibly even lighter than normal, even with the masses of feathers but the Serpent Lord knew Harry’s form was far more than it seemed. Weight was relative after all. The movement arched Harry’s back against the wall as Voldemort pulled forward spreading creamy thighs to move between them, his own back arched so that the angles were correct.

       -Mine,- he hissed again, straightening his knees as he pulled Harry down to meet him.

       It was like entering heaven.

       Hot, tight and so sweet....

       He didn’t penetrate very far, his desire hadn’t allowed him time to prepare his mate but Voldemort was relieved to note that Harry wasn’t damaged by the intrusion. He could smell no blood. Emerald eyes were still watching without seeing, reflecting no love or lust despite his body’s arousal but nor were they reflecting pain.

       Voldemort pulled back and pushed again, pulling Harry further on to him as he kissed his unresponsive mate. This was possession but he wanted it all, and that was driving him to be rough, to be unthinkingly demanding. He drove upwards again into the smaller body, demanding with a force that would have broken a lesser being and deep in his mind, the older wizard knew he should be gentler, softer but at the moment he was unable to hear that call. Voldemort was about half way into Harry before he moved one hand to the sensitive spot at the base of Harry’s wings and rubbed gently.

       Harry arched unconsciously in pleasure, throwing his head back, mouth opened in a silent gasp as he drove his hips down, pushing himself further on to Voldemort’s pulsing cock simultaneously with clamping his muscles around the member intruding upon him. The Dark Lord was not as restrained, crying out audibly, red eyes wide as a wave of pleasure washed though him.

       The claiming of innocence, of purity was always pleasurable, especially with the battles they put up when trying to avoid seduction but it was sublime when they all innocently reciprocated. There was a purity in the pleasure they gave that could not be copied.

       Voldemort pulled Harry’s head back, kissing him deeply, extending his tongue to delve into the moist sweetness that was his mate as he drew back before plunging forward again, driving himself deeper still into the hot tight passage. Deeper. He had to get deeper and while he knew Harry’s body was being forced to accommodate him as quickly as it could it wasn’t enough to slake his desire and with a rapid stattaco he thrust, shallow and short but powerfully into the body above him, stopping only when his member was completely engulfed in Harry’s tight heat and his balls were flush against creamy buttocks.

       Harry’s erect cock was squeezed between them and the Dark Lord leaned back slightly. It was a good thing Harry’s mind was closed to him at the moment because despite his mate’s unresponsive form this time, Voldemort was in pure heaven and being able to feel Harry’s pleasure, to be able to feel the phantom intrusion in his own body would have been too much. It wouldn’t have been right when claiming this. He licked his lips, tasting the rich scent of vanilla and aniseed that was his mate as he adjusted his grip, moving to position Harry securely so he could truly claim him.

       The serpentine man kept one hand on Harry’s thigh, lifting his mate’s leg so he could gain better access, the other arm he wrapped around the smaller boy after placing Harry’s arms over his shoulders. If Harry’s sensitive spot in his tenshi form was near the base of his wings then he would torment and pleasure his mate until he screamed his name, begged him to stop and knew that he was the only one who could do this to him. When he was ready, he licked Harry’s lightning scar that remained even in this form. It was his first mark of ownership. Harry tasted good and Voldemort lowered his head to take Harry’s mouth again as he drew back, pulling halfway out of the exquisite heat that was his mate.

       _Mine,_ he hissed mentally as he slammed back into Harry.

       Harry’s body was a hot, unyielding pressure around him. He could not get enough. He thrust again, revelling in the pleasure Harry’s body was giving him as he dominated the still pliant form. It was not as enjoyable as it perhaps could have been if Harry had been fully awake but Voldemort was beyond caring. With calculated determination he stroked gently at the base of Harry’s wings as he thrust. He groaned into Harry’s mouth as the stimulus caused the boy to flex his muscles powerfully around the Dark Lord’s cock, driving Voldemort’s pleasure further.

       The Serpent Lord set up a rhythm, stroking his engorged member as hard and as fast as he could in and out of Harry’s body in time with the butterfly caresses he was giving that spot just below the base of his tenshi’s wings, that spot that caused Harry to clamp around him. Voldemort continued kissing him, suckling ferociously at the sweetness of Harry’s mouth but eventually the Dark Lord was reduced to crying out as each thrust sent an explosion of ecstasy through his body.

       It was a spur and he pumped harder, ignoring the way Harry’s limbs shook around him from the force of his passion. It didn’t help that his senses were still being teased by Harry’s power because that was driving any thought of restraint from Voldemort. He was careful though, as he ploughed Harry into the wall with the full force of the serpent to ensure that Harry’s head was resting against one of his wings to provide cushioning against some of his power.

       The Dark Lord felt himself begin to rise towards his climax and the instinctual knowledge that we would soon lay claim to his mate once again drove him, if possible harder. Harry shook around him, his muscles squeezing like a vice with every inward thrust, hindering his pull back with an incredible, almost vacuum like suction and his arms and legs were moving almost convulsively with the force of each thrust, bouncing on Voldemort’s shoulders and hip. The older wizard kissed his prize again, lightly this time as he moved his hand to Harry’s thigh again, pulling his other leg up and wider apart as he pounded forward, frenetically. The Serpent Lord leaned back slightly, admiring bruised lips and licking his own as he savoured his pet’s flavour, driving himself with slower but more powerful movements deeper into his mate’s body as he felt his balls tighten.

       As he drove upwards one last time, pulling Harry down to meet him, he plunged his fangs into the juncture of Harry’s shoulder and neck pumping his venom into Harry as his seed spurted into the hot tight passage in waves.

       All was still for long moments as the Dark Lord continued to pour himself into his precious, depositing what seemed like gallons into Harry’s bowels, unable to stop even as he felt the fluid squeeze down the length of the hot tight and still convulsing passage he was buried in to drip back on to his balls and smear over creamy firm buttocks.

       Eventually though his cock stopped pulsing and Voldemort pulled back his head, careful to pull his fangs completely from Harry’s flesh to avoid tearing sensitive skin. He ignored the thin rope of saliva that trailed between them, instead he savoured the sweet tang of tenshi blood. It burned and was almost like tasting magic itself... Voldemort smiled... Tenshi were magical beings, he was tasting magic. He licked at the wound as blood pooled at the twin piercings and slowly lowered them to the ground, enjoying the mix of blood and poison.

       Around the wound were tiny black lines radiating outwards as the poison spread. Voldemort smiled as Xatarass hissed in satisfaction and they were both somewhat contented that while Harry still radiated that intoxicating innocents, with his semen deep within the smaller body and now his poison spreading, Harry did so for them because for anyone else to claim his pet, they would have to go through him, and he would destroy anyone who dared approach.

       Voldemort wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling his mate forward, holding him close as he breathed deeply, the smell of sex strong as he regained his breath. Harry was still like a puppet but his body was warm and even though he was a pure magical being, already he was beginning to burn with the effects of basilisk venom. Any human would have been dead already, the residual poison on Voldemort’s hands would have killed them long before he coupled with them but Harry’s hadn’t even felt that and as the Dark Lord ran his hands over his mate he could feel that the red marks had already faded. It was only because the poison had been introduced directly that Harry was feeling it at all.

       The presence of Xaos would keep his precious alive, even with the poison and as soon as Voldemort completed the serpent bonding ritual, much like the then baby basilisk had done soon after hatching, all effects of his poison would be annulled and Harry would be completely immune to both his eyes and poison. It was appropriate after all. Harry was his little basilisk and basilisks could not kill their own kind with their gaze.

       Voldemort lay down, cradling Harry gently, spreading white wings over them both comfortably as he felt the lethargy of completely consume him. Harry was still lost in his power flows and while the Dark Lord would love to claim his pet again he would enjoy it more if his little one reciprocated. The Serpent Lord hissed softly, stroking back messy black hair.

       -Mine.-

===

 

 


	12. Coming of Age

Weapon  
Chapter 12 Coming of Age

===

       The Dark Lord woke to an unfamiliar and unexpected but welcomed, oh so welcomed once he recognised it, warmth surrounding him. He shifted comfortably aware of the tickle of feathers against his still mottled skin. The serpent had not yet retreated.

       “Comfy?” The question was whispered in his ear, the breath warm upon his neck.

       “Yes,” he responded without opening his eyes.

       “Did you enjoy it?” came the further question in a tone that left no doubt as to what ‘it’ was.

       “Yes.”

       “That’s good.”

       There was something in the tone that caused a sliver of doubt to coil through him and Voldemort opened red eyes to look up at Harry.

       His mate was sitting beside him, still in his tenshi form, wings arching high above his head before wrapping around his lithe body. They were too big for him sitting, and the ends were splayed against the ground providing both mattress and covering which was why the Dark Lord was so warm. Each feather was of the purest white and softer than down. Harry was still radiating that pure innocence which had driven Voldemort’s desire earlier. The Serpent Lord didn’t hesitate and didn’t think as he reached out to claim Harry once more.

       The doubt grew at the chuckle that reached his ears when he discovered that he couldn’t move. Well, he could move, he just couldn’t reach towards Harry. Voldemort hissed, red eyes blazing.

       “No,” Harry murmured, his own eyes laughing. “I couldn’t move,” he added as he brought one hand to his mouth and licked at the creamy fluid there.

       The Dark Lord groaned at the sight, his desire rising as Harry’s tongue twisted around his fingers seeking all the salty liquid with vigour.

       “I couldn’t move,” he repeated. “I wanted to but I couldn’t, so it’s my turn now.” With that Harry moved over Voldemort and briefly brought his lips to the older man’s kissing him gently so that the Dark Lord could taste himself. It was only a brief tasting. Despite Voldemort’s efforts to deepen the kiss, Harry drew back, smiling sultrily as he straddled the Dark Lord’s knees, raising his wings still higher and wrapping them around the prone serpentine body to form a curtain so that the Serpent Lord could only look at him. The leading edges he tucked under Voldemort’s head, raising it slightly to give the Dark Lord an unimpeded view.

       If it hadn’t have been so undignified the Dark Lord would have been cursing. There was a dangerous lilt in Harry’s voice and he shifted to test the extent of the restraints. He could make small movements so the restraint was not painful but nothing large. He could not move either arms or legs much. Ruby eyes flashed. Neither man nor serpent liked being restrained, not even for their mate but the hiss of annoyance died in his throat as he was fixed with a glare from emerald eyes and quite suddenly he knew exactly what Ollivander had meant.

       This was not his mate.

       Or rather this was but this was his mate so focused, so driven that even Voldemort felt a stirring of fear. And not the playful fear that should accompany the gaze to pleasure him until he screamed for release but true fear... something he hadn’t felt for years and the wand maker’s almost trivial warning ghosted back to him with new clarity and urgency. _It will recognise you so it may not attack but if it senses even a hint of danger it will strike and danger may include non-submission. It’s different for each individual..._

       No! Voldemort reminded himself. This was his mate. This was his mate so consumed by power, so focused on his goal that all else was superfluous. This was the man he wanted Harry to become in battle, who would give him the victory.

       Consciously Voldemort forced himself to calm as Harry’s eyes began to burn at his continued small struggles. It appeared the wand maker had been correct. Non submission was considered a threat. With that in mind the Dark Lord smiled up at his mate knowing that he had to see this through to the end. Harry had submitted to him and if they were to be equal then there was going to be times when he had to submit to Harry’s desire.

       As the threatening glow faded from Harry’s eyes Voldemort raised one eye brow, indicating both his acceptance and his question of what was to happen now. Harry chuckled and shook his head, wicked amusement now lighting his eyes above the returned sultry smile. “It’s not that easy,” he whispered. “You are still getting punished.”

       Dignity be damned.

       The Dark Lord gulped.

       Bad move. The ambivalent taste of aniseed and vanilla mixed with his own seed came back to him and he moaned unconsciously as the taste set off a whole new wave of desire. Not that Harry was helping.

       He had pulled out a long feather and much to Voldemort’s consternation but rising pleasure his precious was adding whole new meaning to the word feather light touches.

       The feather was traced around his nipples, sensitising the skin before Harry pinched and teased with his now clawed fingers. It was a torture that was exquisite and Voldemort breathed shallowly as he tried to control his reaction. That seemed to amuse Harry and Voldemort hissed as the feather was traced lower over mottled skin.

       “You’re beautiful.”

       Voldemort couldn’t help but frown at the words, looking up at Harry. Beautiful was not a word associated with him. His body was serpentine, reconstructed, his features a mockery of what they once were. It was functional but not attractive. He was a Dark Lord. He would betray, use or kill just about anyone who came into his knowledge; practical but not beautiful. He was powerful but it was the power of the serpent, red and poisonous. Not many appreciated that beauty.

       “You’re beautiful,” Harry repeated, sensing the doubt. He brushed his feather against Voldemort’s member, enticing a groan. “Your reactions are honest,” he added. “That is beautiful.”

       Voldemort hissed. It was difficult to lie when such a light touch had him seeing stars of pleasure. But that could not be the extent of beauty. He hissed again, the thought driven from his mind as Harry tickled around the base of his straining cock. The reaction brought a throaty laugh.

       “What is not beautiful about that?”

       The Dark Lord could not respond. He was too busy gasping for air. Emerald eyes locked with his briefly and Voldemort realised that Harry was no longer looking at the physical world. The power in his eyes said that he was looking beyond to the streams of magic the Serpent Lord knew defined him. It would be a mixture of serpent and man both forms defined and merging into the other at the moment because Xatarass was awake and his skin was mottled. He was, at the moment, the full human embodiment of the Serpent Lord.

       Voldemort blinked his vision blurring as he shifted his own gaze. He couldn’t hold it for long. Harry was too intense for him and he blinked rapidly, clearing the sun spots that danced in his vision. It was intense but it had been breath takingly beautiful and almost powerful beyond his ability to comprehend and to the serpent, power was beauty. The thought that such a beautiful being was currently pleasuring him was enough to make his breath catch and his pole hardened further, straining upwards.

       Harry smiled, lowering himself as he raised his hands to caress the Dark Lord’s torso. “Beautiful,” he murmured before he engulfed the dead of Voldemort’s cock, sucking hard.

       The Dark Lord groaned, trying to arch into the moist warmth surrounding him but the invisible restraints held him firm. When Harry extended his tongue, Voldemort let out a hiss of frustration that was almost lost in pleasure at the change in texture as the organ swirled over him. Harry’s hands were tracing patterns all over his skin, the pressure sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. The changes were electric.

       With a soft sigh, Harry drew back and licked the shaft before him, only using his tongue to trace out the bulging veins. It was a tease. The Dark Lord knew it was a tease but it felt so good. With a final rough lick, Harry grinned at his lover before he blew a gentle breath over the cock now slick with his saliva.

       The Serpent Lord’s hiss turned into a low moan as he was assaulted by alternating waves of hot and cold. It burned. It was good but the cold burned and he cried out. The burning cold vanished suddenly, becoming moist warmth as Harry swallowed his cock again.

       The pressure was incredible and even though he couldn’t move, Voldemort was certain that Harry was pulling his hips upwards. Harry began bobbing up and down, his lips pressed firmly on the flesh in his mouth. It was sweet. You never expected it to be sweet but his lover was sweet and Harry grinned around the cock, his tongue laving the member hard with every movement. The best poisons always tasted sweet but this was a succulence he was allowed to enjoy. It was a poison for which he knew the antidote.

       No one else could taste this, could know this... Harry closed his jaws slightly, letting his teeth rake softly over the shaft. Voldemort who had been breathing in time with his bobs groaned, his breath leaving him in a rush. Was Harry trying to kill him with pleasure?

       Harry pulled back looking at the Dark Lord carefully. With the serpent half awake and active, the older wizard’s senses were heightened which was making his reactions seem excessive, as if Voldemort had never felt this before. But it was fun! Harry smiled, placing a kiss on the tip of the straining cock before he moved lower, shifting his hands to white hips as he licked at Voldemort’s balls. After a few tentative licks, he opened his mouth, taking one then the other into that moist cavern, playing with each one with his tongue.

       Eventually Harry returned to the abandoned shaft, sucking hard as he sank his mouth on to it, opening his throat to fit the entire length into him. He swallowed hard, allowing his muscles to massage the member strongly before he bobbed and repeated the action, knowing that Voldemort would love the feel of being buried within him.

       “Harry!”

       It was difficult to shake his head when he was swallowing the Serpent Lord’s cock and the small motion he managed shook his hair free and the Dark Lord gave up all communication, reduced to half articulated sounds as the flickering wisps of hair stimulated him further. Harry bobbed faster, up and down, moving one hand to massage his beloved’s balls as his other returned to the still engorged nipples to tweak and tease them.

       It didn’t take long, between the actions of his tongue, the flick of his hair and the sucking before Harry felt Voldemort’s cock twitch, gathering itself for release. With a sudden upward motion, Harry pulled himself off the Dark Lord, allowing his eyes to meet frenzied red orbs.

       “Harry!” Voldemort gasped at the sudden chill. He was so close, so very close to release. He could see the precipice his mate had not driven him over it. It was extremely frustrating because he knew that it would only take the slightest pressure to grant that release.

       “No,” Harry’s voice was both teasing and firm. “This is punishment, beloved. I wanted to cum but you did not let me. I’m not going to make it that easy.” His smile was one of pure evil and Harry licked his lips before once more blowing gently on the erect shaft. He blew directly downwards so that no area was shielded, knowing that the whole length was slick and would feel chilled.

       Harry wasn’t disappointed as his lover stiffened against his magical restraints both stimulated and frustrated. By the gasping afterwards, Harry knew that stimulation had won out. Ruby eyes were clouded in pleasure and he lay limply, trying to regain his breath as waves of pleasure washed through him.

       The Serpent Lord still hadn’t come and as he regained his senses he looked back towards Harry, eyes narrowing as he considered his options. There weren’t many.

       Harry could and most probably would do has he please for a while but that didn’t help him. With his beloved radiating power he wanted to claim it again but he couldn’t... Voldemort hissed to himself... Even his thoughts were scattered.

       Harry laughed again, seeming to sense the underlying question. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said huskily, moving upwards to hover over the Dark Lord. “I won’t punish you forever.” He leaned forward to kiss the serpentine man, allowing the older wizard to deepen it as he wished.

       Their tongues battled easily and eventually Harry drew back, smiling again as he murmured, “Breathing is such a pain.”

       A smile tugged at the Dark Lord’s lips and Voldemort found that it wasn’t tinged by his driving need. Without further stimulus he had retreated from the edge of pleasure. His cock still wanted attention but it would take more than a gentle push to make him come.

       Harry looked down suddenly, half closing his eyes and once more Voldemort was transfixed by the unconscious and absolute beauty possessed by his mate. Harry’s long eye lashes looked beautifully soft and they highlighted the suppleness of his cream skin. His movements were perfect, graceful and smooth. They were the movements of one who had no doubt, who walked upon their path remembering the past but not longing after it.

       Harry’s suddenly predatorial grin brought Voldemort back to the present and his mate murmured, “I don’t think you’ve been punished enough.”

       The calculating look Harry gave him was one of the most erotic things the Serpent Lord had ever seen, even if it did chill him while taking nothing from the arousal he felt.

       Harry moved his wings, pulling them back gently so that Voldemort’s head was once again resting on the ground. He fluffed them over his head in a position that felt natural. They were about half folded with each feather tucked under the one next to it but the position was comfortable for his muscles and tendons and Harry realised this was probably how they were meant to sit when not in flight. He shook his head, bemused, pulling his attention back to the task at hand. He bit his lip lightly at the look on Voldemort’s face, almost regretting the actions he was taking at the pleasured trepidation he could see.

       But then he remembered how much he had wanted to move, how much he had wanted to help in pleasuring his mate, how much he wanted to come and how close he had been when the Dark Lord had lain with him just after his transformation and he knew this was the right thing to do. And even though it was frustrating for the Serpent Lord, it was a pleasurable frustration that would end in a release that would bind them. He was not so cruel that he would not give his lover that.

       This was punishment but it was by one who loved and who was loved. Frustration was an emotion only of the moment. It passed. With the pleasure of just being with the other, it passed.

       Harry moved his hands down, using one to massage back to stiff attention the Dark Lord’s slightly softened member. The other he reached around himself, testing to see that he was still stretched from last time. Unlike last time lubrication wouldn’t be a problem between the Dark Lord’s cum still inside him and his saliva coating the pole that would impale him but it had hurt somewhat and he hadn’t been able to protest when, when in his haste Voldemort hadn’t cared to prepare him. His body had adjusted then and was still stretched now.

       Voldemort was quickly ready again, not that that was surprising. With the aborted release the Serpent Lord was more than ready to go again.

       Harry moved lower, kissing Voldemort as he shifted his hips. It was a little awkward without watching but he managed, gently feeling what he was doing as he positioned the Dark Lord at his entrance before he lowered himself to engulf the cock completely.

       He was pleased to see blood red eyes open wide at the warmth but that didn’t stop anything and Harry bit lightly on Voldemort’s lower lip as he drew back, clamping his muscles around the member inside him.

       Voldemort gasped and Harry sat up, the movement allowing him to take the shaft deeper into his body and there was a soft squelch as it settled within him. Harry moved his knees, straddling the serpentine body and putting his knees against the Dark Lord’s ribs. Experimentally he clamped his muscles again as he pushed himself upwards.

       The pressure was incredible and Harry’s moan mixed with Voldemort’s at the motion. He lowered himself again, squirming slightly to settle the shaft properly within him. It felt good.

       It always felt good with Voldemort - warm, smooth and comfortable. It filled him completely, warm and hard, making him feel cold and empty when the member wasn’t there. Harry moved again, falling into a good rhythm, enjoying the appreciative moans the Dark Lord was making at his stimulation.

       Voldemort looked up at Harry. His pet’s face was filled with pleasure and he moaned as the thought that he was the one pleasuring his precious filled him. He felt himself harden more. Harry’s hands were good but there was something indescribable when he was buried in Harry’s warmth. He ached the thrust into Harry’s body but was still restrained.

       The magical binds that his mate had placed earlier hadn’t loosened at all and while it was obvious Harry was also feeling pleasure from this the Serpent Lord wanted to help his beloved. He wanted to pleasure Harry. He had never felt uncomfortable taking pleasure before - many had given him pleasure, just as Harry was without him moving to see to their pleasure but now he wanted to share. It felt wrong, not being able to stroke and caress his little one, not being able to return the pleasure Harry was giving him was distracting from his arousal.

       Harry saw the slight frown marring the Serpent Lord’s features and reached out. There should be nothing distracting his lover at the moment, nothing but the motion up and down, in and out, that thrusting that was everything when mating and the massaging of his muscles. That should be the only thing on the Dark Lord’s mind at the moment; nothing but the purity of passion. He almost released the restraints when he felt the reason for Voldemort’s distraction. It appeared they shared the same purity of purpose, the same desire to pleasure the other.

       Harry stretched his mind out, soothing away the discomfort to allow his mate to enjoy the pleasure he was giving. Besides the Dark Lord couldn’t enjoy his punishment if he was distracted and Harry couldn’t complete it. There had to be no distraction, no desire beyond the need for release, and no thought beyond the pleasure Harry had to give him which would lead to its own frustration, its own pleasure. Emerald eyes narrowed as he looked into red orbs, squeezing the cock within him as he drove downwards.

       :Mine,: Harry whispered into the Dark Lord’s mind. :To pleasure, to tease, to take. What I give you is my choice beloved. Take the pleasure that is offered for what it is, for this time it is my pleasure to give and yours to take.: With those words he pulled back slightly, closing his mind again has he moved, sliding up and down the tool within him.

       It felt good to him as well. The motion in and out filled him and even as he worked his muscles, grasping then releasing the pulsing member within him he was massaged as well, the sensation arousing him. He loved it. Harry grinned, picking up his earlier discarded feather and used it to tease the Dark Lord’s nipples as he ground his hips through small circles, brushing his wings over Voldemort’s splayed legs. He brushed gently against them, caressing, teasing.

       Voldemort looked up as Harry continued to pleasure him, driving himself on to his engorged cock fully before rising up and falling back again, each time accompanied by the soft slurp as his cum and Harry’s saliva mixed, allowing his precious to move more easily, lubricating his motion within the tight fiery passage comfortably. He had felt Harry within his mind reassuring him that this was what his wanted, that it was okay that he couldn’t return the pleasure the tenshi was giving him.

       The Dark Lord gave himself over to the stimulation his mate was giving him secure now with the knowledge that while he could be helping to pleasure Harry, this time the only thing Harry wanted was his presence, to know that he was with him on this night.

       Voldemort gasped as with Harry’s continuous motion he felt himself tighten and his arousal took on a more urgent edge as he rose. Harry felt his impending release and drive himself down hard before he stilled, clamping and releasing his muscles rhythmatically, continuing to stimulate the Serpent Lord. Voldemort closed his eyed and despite the restraints did his best to drive himself into Harry’s slick warmth even though he couldn’t move an inch.

       It felt so good, the ripple of muscles along his length. Harry was tight and hot and it felt so good. He was so close that he panted with desire. His balls twitched and Harry’s arched his back, driving downwards before he froze.

       “Earh!” The Dark Lord screamed.

       Harry had stopped just before his release and now was remaining as still as a statue; a beautiful, so indescribably perfect statue that was still wrapped around his member but was not allowing him the sweetness of release.

       He could feel it, he could taste it, he could see, smell and hear it. he wanted it so badly. He needed it. His body was painfully aroused, tense and tight light a string.

       But Harry was not letting him snap. Hissing, he opened red eyes to look into green orbs that were clouded with their own lust but still composed enough to maintain control.

       “Punishment,” Harry murmured, still not moving.

       “Harry,” Voldemort said.

       “Yes?”

       The Dark Lord gritted his teeth... He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t beg even though he wanted it, even though he needed it, even though this was his mate and it would not be weakness.

       He wouldn’t beg.

       He hissed again as the sweet tension that was everything loosened and his body retreated, unfulfilled from the precipice. His frustration colours his magic but Harry wasn’t affected, moving slightly but not enough to drive Voldemort over the edge. Small hands reached down and stroked his own erection.

       Harry’s breath become short as he pumped his flesh, quickly bringing himself to release while he slowly massaged Voldemort’s member, keeping it hard within him but not so hard that the Dark Lord could come.

       Voldemort groaned as Harry came, his breath short. The first spurt splattered on to mottled skin but the rest was collected by Harry who smeared his own essence over his still hard member.

       “Harry,” Voldemort panted as his senses were all but overwhelmed by the taste, smell and sight of his mate’s arousal. If Harry wasn’t going to let him come, he could at least give him the quasi relief of enjoying his own. The serpent needed to taste his mate.

       Harry looked confused for a moment before he nodded, smiling gently as he raised himself, his muscles giving the Serpent Lord’s erect cock one last squeeze as it existed his body with a soft slurp. He felt hollow without the hardness filling him but distracted himself from that by collecting his semen which had spurted on to the Dark Lord’s scaled chest. He raised sticky fingers to Voldemort’s mouth so that the serpentine tongue could lick them clean.

       Eagerly Voldemort opened his mouth and extended his tongue to lick at his pet’s essence. It tasted so good and as he devoted himself to sucking off every last trace of flavour, the evidence of Harry’s completion, in an effort to stem his own need he missed the intrusion of the first tentative probing finger until it stroked gently inside him and he arched involuntarily, seeing stars as he muffled his scream.

       It felt so good and he became painfully aware of his abused erection. Twice now he had been denied release and he needed it. Already with the mild stimulation provided by a single digit he was on the plateau before release but his boy was wary and even when Harry stroked his sweet spot, plunging two fingers into him the Dark Lord did nothing but enjoy the intense pleasure. He made no move towards release. It was like he was stretched taunt and to go any further would be to snap. He sucked hard on the fingers in his mouth, wrapping his tongue around them as Harry moved them in and out in time with his other hand.

       Harry had fixed his mouth over one nipple and was currently alternating between small nibbles and soothing licks. It felt good. It all felt so good when Harry switches sides as he plunged three fingers into the Dark Lord, stroking hard as Voldemort arched with his touch, gasping.

       Harry laughed as he moved, muffling Voldemort’s cries with his mouth, allowing the Dark Lord to battle his tongue. He tasted good. Dry but sweet and Harry allowed himself to savour his mate as their tongues twisted together. He moved his hands to Voldemort’s hips, stroking the skin tenderly before he gripped slender serpentine hips and lifted moving himself into position.

       He pushed upwards gently, easing the head of his cock passed the loosened ring of muscles before he paused. The Dark Lord thrashed. Or he would have, if the restraints didn’t hold him firm at the tentative intrusion. He wanted more. He needed more. But his attempts to pull his mate in deeper only bounced his own erect penis between them, sending stars of pleasure dancing before his eyes with every exquisite jolt. Harry didn’t seem concerned and continued to kiss him passionately but without the urgency Voldemort could feel.

       Slowly, ever so slowly Harry pushed forward and Voldemort flexed his muscles, hungrily clasping the intruding member as he tried to swallow it completely with his ass. The Serpent Lord groaned and bit lightly on Harry’s tongue when his mate pulled back, one again pausing with only the head of his cock within the Dark Lord.

       It wasn’t fair. He was still trapped on the pleasurable plateau, stretched taunt with the desire and need but the deeper Harry was buried within him the closer to the precipice he got. It felt good but he needed release and to get that he needed Harry buried within him, to fill him completely.

       Harry seemed nonchalant at the slight pain the bit caused but he pulled back and began to lick and nip at mottled skin before he pushed forward again.

       “Now, deeper!” Voldemort cried, clenching his fists. He ached to wrap his legs around his mate and pull him closer, deeper.

       This time though Harry took mercy on him and stopped only when he was completely buried in hot, tight warmth. His passage had been lubricated by his own semen smeared over his length. Harry levered himself up to looked down at his beloved. Voldemort’s expression was intense and Harry was enjoying the tight heat as the Dark Lord flexed himself around his member in an effort to induce him to continue moving.

       Split red eyes looked back up at him, clouded with lust. The almost lipless moth was open and serpent like, Harry could see his beloved’s tongue flickering, tasting everything. It was difficult to tell if Voldemort was flushed as his skin was displaying the patterns of a serpent. He was beautiful in his lust and Harry reached down to stroke the aroused member between them.

       The Dark Lord groaned as the plateau vanished and he felt himself once again begin to rise to a new level of pleasure. Right now he wanted Harry but he wanted more than the filling presence of the member within him, he wanted the pounding friction, the slide of flesh on flesh. He needed Harry to be ploughing into him, reaming his body as hard as possibly so that he could be filled completely.

       Thankfully it appeared Harry shared his desire because it only took a few moments for his precious to move his hand and to lean down, pressing his stomach against engorged flash as his hips rose.

       The Serpent Lord’s cry at the emptiness was muffled as Harry once again took his mouth before he thrust downwards. The motion was beautiful; sweet and fulfilling.

       As Harry set up a good rhythm, Voldemort threw his head back, moaning with every stroke and allow his mate to nuzzle into his throat, nipping and licking at the skin. He found that he could move his legs slightly and opened them wider to allow Harry better access. The Dark Lord felt the smile on Harry’s lips and he only had a moment to comprehend that before his mate altered his angle, moving faster and hitting his sweet spot with every motion.

       Ruby eyes squeezed shut at the assault of pleasure. The plateau was long behind him and with every beautifully fulfilling stroke Voldemort could feel himself rising to a new release.

       Harry pounded into him, lifting himself upwards to gain better leverage to plough the body beneath him harder.

       “Yes!” Voldemort cried, gaping as Harry moved faster. If felt so good and even though he couldn’t really move, Harry was providing him with a wonderful pleasure. He felt complete. It was a feeling only Harry could give to him because it stemmed from the love and the care he could feel from his mate, even when his body was being used to pleasure another. It came from the surety that he was no just a tool to fulfil lust, that his requirements would be met. And even though Harry had yet to let him reach completion he could feel the love and care that his mate felt towards him.

       “Harder,” Voldemort urged, feeling his pleasure level at the delicious pounding of his mate but still wanting more.

       There was no thought beyond the pleasure. Not only was he being filled completely with Harry’s member with each stoke the motion was stimulating his cock and the pressure was amazing. He could smell and taste nothing but the delicious tang, vanilla and aniseed mixed now with sex. This was his mate and as he opened his eyes he could see Harry’s inhumanly beautiful face reflecting his mates pleasure. His wings shook with each motion. He could hear his own heart beat but he could also hear his breath coming in short gasps and Harry’s controlled breaths.

       There was very little plateau this time and Voldemort gasped as he felt his balls tightened and the sweetness he felt contracted, almost as if it was gathering itself to explode though his body.

       It felt good. It felt so good and he needed this so badly.

       Nearly there.

       Harry slowed, moving more deeply, pausing each time briefly buried completely within allowing the hot passage to clamp wonderfully around him. He could feel his mate’s arousal and knew the Serpent Lord was close to release. And he knew that this release would be strong for the earlier denied pleasure.

       But not yet.

       He could feel the Dark Lord gathering beneath him for release and with a quick downward motion he pulled out, ignoring the soft pop and Voldemort’s scream as he exited the tight hot body. Harry was careful to keep his own frustration from showing as Voldemort struggled, trying futilely to find release as his lust and desire drove all thought away.

       He was beautiful like that, in an unthinking primeval way, when instinct was the only thing felt. In the instant of unfulfilled desire he was powerful and beautiful and Harry could feel his will as he sought that singular goal. It was a will which would challenge eternity and win. It was a will that had challenged the wizarding world and had found it lacking and was now hated and feared but always respected. It was a will that was not afraid to adapt and change as the situation demanded but it would never compromise.

       Absolute, undeniable and in this instant, Harry grinned, his alone.

       As the Dark Lord hissed at him, threateningly Harry teased him, pushing the head of his cock back into the hot body. Voldemort growled in unthinking, animalistic desire but he could do nothing to facilitate his release. Harry pulled out and pushed in again, going no further but enjoying the rippling grip of the ring of muscles as he watched blood red eyes loose the glazed animalistic glow.

       It was replaced with a look of rage.

       Voldemort wanted release and he wanted it now. He had been taunted too long with its promise. A lesser being would have granted that release and then begged the Dark Lord for whatever torture he would inflict as punishment. A more hardy soul would have grated release with the instant of their death to avoid the sated rage that would follow.

       Harry did nothing but merely look back, his eyes reflecting his own pleasure at the situation; pleasure that was tinged with his love. He had already said he would give Voldemort release but he would do so in his own time, and when he did the Serpent Lord would know that only he had the right to lay with him. No one else could or would ever be able to please him the way Harry did. After this day, if the Dark Lord lay with any other, man or woman, no matter their efforts or his, not matter if he found release of not, he would only ever feel half complete.

       It was a punishment, a frustration but a passion that would only be felt by a mated pair.

       “Harry,” Voldemort hissed, the demand obvious.

       Harry continued teasing him, pumping his body without granting anything. To answer Harry pushed in about half way, loving the way Voldemort’s body closed in around him.

       It was hard not to appear to be more eager. The Serpent Lord was on the verge of completion but so was he. And he needed it, needed to be buried in tight heat, spewing forth his essence with the knowledge that that release, that position was his alone. Harry grinned as he pulled back.

       Voldemort would kill to keep him safe, he knew that, would kill to maintain the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived belonged to him and him along, never realising that such action also confirmed the opposite.

       Harry didn’t like to think of the fate of anyone who propositioned the Dark Lord although it could be amusing to watch, in a blood thirsty type of way. He felt his cock twitch and smiled, knowing the Serpent Lord was now too far off the peak to come when he did. Harry swooped, locking his mouth with Voldemort’s as he thrust forward one final time, the tightness in his balls loosening as he poured into his beloved.

       As he came he felt Voldemort clamp around him. It wasn’t the same as if the Dark Lord was coming with him but it was pleasurable and he loved the release. In his mind Harry sighed happily, stilling as he enjoyed the glow, the sweetness of the body he was buried in. This was his right, his pleasure. This was his mate and as Harry came back to himself he kept his kiss gentle, making sure his tongue movement was sinuous as he tasted Voldemort, sucking at the lips.

       When he pulled back Voldemort was breathing hard, his eyes still clouded with lust.

       “Harry,” he said, hissing. Harry pulled back, pulling his softening cock out of the still delicious pleasure. He moved one hand down and stroked the Dark Lord’s cock, pumping it softly as he sat back resting on the Dark Lord’s thighs.

       Red eyes watched him and Voldemort was gasping softly with each movement of his hand. Harry was replete and it was time to end the punishment.

       The Dark Lord would know soon enough the pleasure that he was allowed.

       “What do you want?” he asked.

       “Harry,” Voldemort said again, sharp teeth gritted against the assault of pleasure. He was close and he needed to come but Harry would allow that only when the Dark Lord asked.

       “Ask,” Harry instructed, moving his other hand down to massage tight balls.

       “Harry.”

       Harry shook his head. “Ask,” he said again, stilling the movement of his hand. There was no weakness with asking your mate for pleasure. Voldemort had to learn that. Harry could feel that the Dark Lord was close, although that wasn’t hard to guess. He had been on edge for a very long time.

       “Harry,” Voldemort said again, desperately as he strained against the magically imposed bonds as he sought to find release.

       Harry arched his wings in, brushing the tips against the Dark Lord’s nipples, resuming his massaging of the hot sack at the base of the penis. The quivering of the serpentine body beneath him was beautiful but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. It was okay, he was patient and with the need the Dark Lord felt, it wouldn’t take long. Then they would be wound together as he wished... for now. Then only he would be able to fully pleasure the Dark Lord. “Ask,” he repeated.

       “Harry, please,” Voldemort finally gasped.

       Harry smiled as he lifted his body, looking down as he moved into position. With a quick motion he sheathed the Dark Lord within him. Voldemort hissed at the sudden warmth, revelling in Harry’s rippling muscles, but he still needed more.

       Harry leant over him, spreading his knees and resting on his elbows as he kissed Voldemort. As he released the bonds on the Dark Lord long arms snaked around him, one holding him close while the other gripped lower, holding him in place. With a savage hiss the Dark Lord thrust upwards, forcefully pulling him down, all semblance of reason lost with his desire.

       Harry rocked back and forth happily. The pressure was amazing and he could feel every bulge on his beloved’s engorged cock as it rammed into him. It felt so good going so deep. This was not submission. This was power. Right at the moment, the Dark Lord couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, and so Harry was the only thing he was focused on, and his pleasure was something Harry could either give or deny. He licked at Voldemort’s skin, wondering why many of the men had denigrated his position. There was nothing wrong with letting his beloved take his pleasure in him. It was his power, his love, and although he loved taking the Dark Lord, it was something they would share. With a pleasurable grunt he pushed back harder, meeting Voldemort’s thrusts powerfully, enjoying the slap of balls against his skin.

       Voldemort rammed upwards as hard as he could. Harry had brought him to the brink too many times and he needed the release it appeared his mate was now willing to grant. He could feel his balls bouncing with each movement, slapping on the skin of Harry’s buttocks with each powerful thrust. Being buried in Harry was something he would never get tired of, and he could feel the sweet tension that lead to release building again. His precious was moving with, his muscles working hard gripping and releasing his cock with a pleasurable friction. It was skilful manipulation of experience and he loved each motion. It was hot and tight but delicate and free.

       It occurred to him, through the haze of pleasure that Heprah had been correct. As completely unforgivable as the wizards actions had been, to dare to touch his mate, to dare to take what was his, the wizard had taste, taking his pleasure in the only one the Dark Lord would willingly grant pleasure but Heprah had been right in one other way. Harry was like a virgin... his skill was not but the pressure of his body wrapped around the pulsing member impaling him was that of a virgin. And this was their third time. There was enough stretching so that he could move comfortably but the rippling muscles closed in around him powerfully, creating a hot, tight, pulsing passage that felt fresh... as if it hadn’t been fucked before.

       It just made Voldemort want Harry even more and he pulled the pliant body down to meet him. This was his mate and this sweetness was something only he would experience. And if he could have fucked Harry forever, he would have almost been willing to let the rest of the world go... Power was just that... this was something else entirely.

       There was a soft squelching and Voldemort continued to drive upwards. The motion was strong, forceful powerful and Harry grunted with the assault. The two of them cried out in unison with each filling motion the Dark Lord made. His cock was rock hard and Harry felt as if he was being split in two with each beautifully filling motion.

       The Dark Lord changed his motion, moving to powerful full length strokes, burying himself to the hilt with each upward motion. With a final savage growl Voldemort pulled Harry down to meet him in his release.

       Harry clamped his muscles and arched himself back, driving down to take the Dark Lord deeper into his body.

       “Mine!” Voldemort snarled, his claws extending as he gripped Harry harder, breaking the skin as he laid claim to his mate again.

       Harry rippled his muscles as the Serpent Lord poured into him, spilling his seed in long waves into the hot passage that was his beloved. Three denied releases meant this was longer and sweeter as he poured into Harry. They seemed frozen together as pleasure washed around them.

       Harry relaxed his muscles as he swung back down to kiss his beloved. The motion shifted the cock within him and Harry could feel the flow of cum deep inside but he didn’t mind and wriggled comfortably on the member still within him.

       It was a filling pressure that he had been without for so long and while he didn’t like to think about it, it would be a feeling he was going to be without for the rest of the year and he needed to savour it as much as possible now.

       But all good things must end and eventually the Dark Lord moved beneath him, moving to embrace him properly as he turned them so that they lay side by side. Someone the Serpent Lord managed to catch one of Harry’s wings to form a mattress. Harry sighed as Voldemort’s shaft pulled from him. He was going to miss that feeling, along with pleasure of being buried within his mate.

       -Mine,- Voldemort hissed, reaching to stroke back black hair. The strands were stuck together with sweat. -Mine,- he murmured again as Harry snuggled into him, fitting the curves of his body to the Serpent Lords. It was wonderfully warm and accepting and in the afterglow of his release it was relaxing and comforting. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy in the presence of his precious.

       Harry smiled softly as he heard Voldemort’s breathing level out in sleep. It was to be expected. He had driving both man and serpent to frustration before allowing them release. It was a release he had enjoyed, savouring each movement the Dark Lord had made and it was pleasure beyond words, knowing that only you could drive such a powerful being to distraction knowing that he was with his mate.

       “Yours,” Harry whispered breathing deep the dry scent of snake and sex. It was warm, comforting and filling. This was exactly where he wanted to be. “But you are mine,” Harry murmured as he settled himself comfortably, eyes closing as he was lulled by the scent of completion and the soft contentment he could feel from his beloved.

       -Mine.-

===

       Ollivander blinked almost owl like silver eyes in the pre-dawn darkness. It was nearly complete. Soon Dumbledore would have his Weapon but right at the moment, the wand maker didn’t care... truth be told, he didn’t really care at all. The war was not something that concerned him and while he would be interested in seeing Mr Potter, that would happen in time. Right now, he was more interested in the man before him.

       Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin and Black had escorted Mr Potter to his shop for the boy’s Coming of Age Ceremony, and while they could do nothing even if young Harry was in trouble, he had agreed that they could keep vigil through the night, just in case... He’d created his shielded work room, and all he could sense was that there were two beings inside. He could not sense anything else, so Ollivander didn’t really understand what Dumbledore thought could be done but it had placated the wizard and so he’d allowed it. They’d taken turns and right now it was Harry’s Godfather who was sitting across from him, dozing.

       It was that action which was piquing his interest. The others had been wide awake and tense, the stress of day, and the worries they felt clearly evident. They had all be worried about the future. Mr Black on the other had was calm and composed enough that he could sleep even with everything that was happening. That was fascinating in and of itself. Of all of them, the wand maker had expected Harry’s guardian to be the most concerned, especially when the completion of the Ceremony would see the expectation that his Godchild would now enter the war. Yet the man was composed enough to simply nod at Ollivander when he had relieved Remus before he’d settled, stretching his legs out and fidgeting for a few moments until he was comfortable, then dozing off.

       He was sure of the future.

       Silver eyes narrowed carefully examining the canine animagus as the wand maker considered the aura of the man... He was sure of the future and his faith was absolute. That was why he could sleep.

       There was a flicker, just for an instant, of pitch darkness in the thin light and Ollivander shook his head, blinking quickly as he suddenly understood. That explained why Mr Black could sleep while the others had been distracted.

       Dumbledore had been tense although the feeling had been well concealed by the ancient wizard. The Hogwarts Headmaster though had been expecting an attack and Ollivander had been somewhat amused. The Dark Lord was involved but it appeared that Dumbledore still had things to learn about his former student. Mr Riddle had rarely been so obvious as to do the expected.

       Lupin had been preoccupied, his features marred by a frown for his entire watch. He had been as polite as always, chatting briefly with the wand maker but his mind had been elsewhere. The silver eyed man hadn’t heard about anything happening within the werewolf community but then his sources weren’t going to be as up to date as a werewolf themselves... there could be something... there probably was something... Both the Dark Lord and the Ministry were probably already vying for support but such a thing had happened in the past... Lupin seemed too concerned for it to be that alone. Whatever happened, the wand maker knew he would hear about it in time.

       Snape had been worried, and the expression had been so out of place on the Potion Master that Ollivander almost hadn’t recognised it. The man had always seemed collected every other time their paths had crossed although the wand maker hadn’t missed the man’s small start of surprise when they had accompanied Harry. It didn’t take much to realise at least some of what the problem was. The Dark Lord or the Order... eventually he would have to choose, add into the mix the Shadows and something had to give.

       Ollivander sighed, thinking back. He didn’t like giving advice and in the end he wasn’t sure if the Potion Master had listened but the simple reassurance that everyone had their task had seemed to bolster Snape... Although Ollivander knew that nothing would truly calm the man until everything was over, until he had decided one way or another which was the path he would follow and for that he suspected that there was only going to be one way that lead to survival. The interest of the Shadows was potent and when they wanted something, they were relentless.

       There were worse fates... No doubt Snape was aware of that as well...

       “Severus?” Sirius asked, cracking open one eye as the wand maker’s soft sigh broke him out of his doze.

       “Huh?”

       “Thinking about Snivilus?”

       “How did you know?”

       “He seems to be the topic of choice to avoid the obvious,” Sirius said as he sat up, vaguely gesturing towards the back of Ollivander’s store.

       “Ah... You must admit, his is an interesting quandary.”

       “Humph!” The canine animagus snorted derisively. “Interesting or not, he is running out of time, and he is endangering everything. Neither Dumbledore or the Dark Lord will show compassion.”

       “True,” Ollivander agreed not really concerned. He really shouldn’t have expected any other response from Mr Black. He did after all know what the man’s feelings were towards the Potion Master and had known since almost before their Hogwart’s days. The Marauders versus Snape was the stuff of wizarding legend... well, Hogwart’s Legend. “I’ve been expecting you to visit me,” he said, shifting to a new topic. “With the announcement of your wrongful imprisonment and Ministerial Pardon, I was expecting you to see me for a new wand.”

       “Ah,” it was Sirius’ turn to use that nonchalant syllable. “My wand wasn’t destroyed,” he explained. “Remus kept it safe for me, or, no doubt, you would have seen me earlier.”

       “So that’s what happened,” Ollivander smiled. There had been some slight scandal around the time of Mr Black’s imprisonment over the fact that no one could find his wand, but that had been lost in the greater celebration of the Voldemort’s demise. After all, with the Dark Lord dead, and his right hand man imprisoned, what did it matter that his wand had not been found?

       The werewolf had had it the entire time. An impressive feat that, given the rules that governed werewolves, and the problems Lupin would have faced throughout his life just keeping his own wand safe, let alone another’s. “It must be a comfort to have such loyal friends.”

       “It is,” Sirius smiled, the expression truly happy. “It is.”

       _Or something more than friends,_ Ollivander added to himself silently unsure of why he wished to keep the knowledge to himself.

       Sirius rose, dusting off his pants. “Will Harry be much longer?” He asked.

       The wand maker looked outside. The thin dawn light had brightened considerably and there were some goblins and wizards beginning to go about their business but it was still very early. “A few more hours yet, I think.”

       “Good,” Sirius said with another smile, different this time, expectant. “That’ll give me enough time to go collect a few things.”

       “You’re not going to wait?”

       The animagus shrugged. “I’ll be back before Harry’s ready. Besides, they’ll tell me if there is anything wrong.”

       Ollivander’s eyes narrowed at the statement but he nodded affably, flicking a finger to unlock the door as Sirius approached it. It was unusual for anyone so deeply involved with the shadows to admit it so openly. As the man drew his hood and walked out into the street he looked back at the dark corner where a shadow was residing. “You’d tell him?” He couldn’t help but question.

       :We’d tell him although right at the moment, as you already know, no matter what happened, there is nothing he could do.:

       “Ah.” Ollivander let the matter drop delicately as he stepped back towards the counter, trusting his sign to flip itself over on this new business day. From what he could sense from his shielded room, Mr Potter wouldn’t be awake for a little while yet.

===

       Snape stared at the fire as he tried to control his shivering. He still remembered Ollivander’s deceptively simple words that everyone had their task... Far from comforting him, the words had just brought back memories of his last visit to the Dark Lord. It had been, from his point of view, an unmitigated disaster. The only way it could have been worse was if the Serpent Lord had tried to kill him... In many ways that would have been easier because the choice of side would have been made for him.

       Right now, he was still in limbo. And with the shadows seeming to haunt his every move, the choice was not getting any easier. He supposed he should have expected to see a shadow in the wand makers shop. The man was so quintessential to wizarding life that there was no way they wouldn’t be watching him. One way or another, with very few exceptions everyone went to Ollivander. Maybe not for years, but the shadows were patient, they could wait years to gather their information...

       But right at the moment, they were moving, just as Voldemort was no doubt preparing to, just as he knew Dumbledore would give the order to as soon as Harry was judged capable. And once all three began to move, it would be chaos.

       He knew what Dumbledore had said, and he had studied the ancient texts on his own. He knew that Harry should be able to control the shadows, but the Potion Master knew that they were more than capable of acting like they were being controlled, when all the time they were playing another game. Or... it had been so long since they had had a Master, it was possible they had become fragmented.

       Whichever it was, it didn’t help him because there was no way Potter would order them away from him... and that didn’t even get close to how he would raise the question with the boy. Even if he did manage to somehow tell Potter of his predicament, the cursed child would no doubt be amused, or the shadows would be whispering in his ear, something else to make everything seem reasonable. No, this was something he had to deal with himself.

       _Give in!_

       There was a whisper in his soul. It was the whisper that had lead him as an arrogant youth into the embrace of the dark. It was calling to him now, enticing him. The song that was Fawkes was combating it, and he knew better now. The Dark Lord was not the solution and could never be, no matter what he promised, no matter what he seemed to be saying. There was an inherent flaw in his being. It was well hidden but it was still there. Most called it charisma, but Snape called it hunger. There was something within the man who had once been Tom Riddle that wasn’t right. It was a hunger, something that consumed everything. It was a hunger for destruction, for something that was always out of reach, and it was something that all who followed the Dark Lord possessed. No matter how hard the strove, how much they possessed, or destroyed, how much power they gained it would never be enough. Their hunger, their desire never let them see enough... all they saw and all they wanted was more.

       The Potion Master started as there was a knock from the corridor. He wasn’t expecting guests, especially not at this hour. But it seemed some things couldn’t be avoided when the knock was repeated. They knew who they wanted to speak to.

       “Come,” Severus called, bracing himself carefully. He didn’t expect trouble within Hogwarts but he hadn’t survived as long as he had without being cautious.

       Severus frowned when he saw who was in his doorway and looked away. This was the last thing he needed now and he really didn’t feel like talking to that being. His reaction though, wasn’t lost on the vampire but they simply chuckled and stepped across the threshold.

       “I’m sorry,” Xeoaph said without a trace of guilt or remorse. “When I told Dumbledore about Ferous Base I didn’t consider how it would affect his resident spy. I hope the Dark Lord wasn’t too harsh on you?”

       Snape decided not to answer, keeping his eyes trained on the vampire elder as the undead man gracefully sat down. Surreptitiously he shifted a potion vial in his sleeve but he knew that if Xeoaph attacked, there wasn’t much he could do. He was a powerful wizard, but the vampire had centuries of experience. He wasn’t really concerned about that. The vampire hadn’t come for that reason and within Hogwarts he’d be stupid to try and he probably already knew that.

       “It’s been an interesting few days, hasn’t it?” Xeoaph said conversationally as his eyes flicked over the room.

       “There are no listening devices,” the Potion Master snapped. “Nor recorders.”

       The vampire smiled easily. For a being who was supposed to be over one thousand years old he was remarkably free with his expressions. “You can never be too careful,” he said unconcerned at Severus’ tone.

       “What do you want?”

       “I thought the better question would be what do you want?” Xeoaph shrugged. “But I know you aren’t going to answer that... so, in the interests of continuing a conversation, what do I want? I want to talk. I am interested in your views on one Harry Potter.” The vampires eyes seemed to glow and one fang caught on his lip.

       Snape started but managed to keep his expression under control as he examined the vampire with new interest.

       “You are one of the few who aren’t enamoured of his light and I wanted the opinion of a wizard who can see clearly.”

       Severus was silent for a long time, just watching Xeoaph. This could be a trap, this could be a ruse, this could be any number of things but the vampire simply sat quietly watching him in return with an almost gentle expression that showed his genuine interest. For some reason, the vampire elder really did want or need this information. But Snape wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t reveal his suspicious and he couldn’t blindly parrot what everyone believed to be the truth.

       Although...

       This could be the opportunity he was looking for. If he could convince the vampire to raise at least some doubt about Potter in Dumbledore’s mind then perhaps he could raise his suspicious and they could finally question that arrogant child on what had happened to him properly. The lack of comment from Potter about certain events did not sit well with the Potion Master but he was not in a position to question that. He needed someone else, someone Dumbledore had to listen too, to raise the initial concern.

       Why was he asking this, though? Did he already suspect that something was wrong? Or was the vampire just playing some game or seeking some way to avenge his childe? Harry had apologised at Dumbledore’s insistence about that but Xeoaph had waved it off, saying that the loss of his childe was troubling but that he had warned Ikhan that it was dangerous and it had seemed like all had been forgiven. But a vampire did not lose a childe that old easily... Snape knew that, Dumbledore knew that but... it seemed everyone had been taking the elders word that it was forgiven.

       Perhaps until now.

       A slow, almost mocking half smile appeared on Snape’s face as he realised he had little choice. In the game he played... there were Master’s on the field and even he was played. He’d known that but he’d always hoped he could play his own game. Not this time though, not with Potter it seemed. There were too many interested parties for him to play alone.

       “Clearly?” Severus snorted the question. “That is the problem with Potter. Nothing is clear.” Xeoaph’s eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing and simply waited for Snape to continue.

       “He is powerful, I will grant. And to fight the Dark Lord such power is necessary but... there are too many things that have been left unknown, too many things he needs to be questioned on. The Dark Lord is too sure of himself and such is always worrying. He has had decades to plan, he has also had Potter within his grasp. I don’t trust the boy’s word that nothing happened. We know the Dark Lord would not have left his enemy untouched and no one has grilled him on that.”

       “It is wishful thinking to believe that the Dark Lord would not have left something to control Potter’s power?” Xeoaph prompted.

       “Exactly. Anyone else that is relied on that much would have been questioned intensely, linked to the Order or not we would not be trusting their word so easily. Fawkes is not infallible.”

       “You are the proof of that?” The vampire asked slyly.

       Snape snapped his jaw closed. “No... not that, but Fawkes too can be blinded by light. Hope is not eternal.”

       Xeoaph sat silently for a time, lacing white fingers together as he thought about what the Potion Master had said but also what he had not said. Even with the admissions, the man had been guarded. “There is much that I do not understand about Potter,” he said finally. “I had thought that was simply my lack of knowledge of wizards as I have not associated closely with your kind for centuries but it appears that it is more.

       “We vampires remember the last Shadow Master and we know things were very different then. The Shadows have not changed and they are not something that can be controlled by a human. All creatures of the Dark know this but you creatures of the light never seem to understand that. They cannot be controlled by the power you can wield. The Last Shadow Master... He, he understood. But not everyone understood that. We didn’t until it was too late.”

       Xeoaph shook his head. “That is not the point. We are... we have own concerns about Potter. It is good to see that we are not the only ones to suspect. He is too powerful and he is a child. We will see through his act eventually. I know that to defeat the Dark Lord he will be needed but there is needed and needed.”

       The ancient vampire rose. “Thank you for your candour, Potion Master. I will speak with you again later when there is more to discuss.” With a regal nod Xeoaph walked to the door and let himself out.

       Snape just stared for a few moments before shuddering and gathering himself. Even though the conversation with Ollivander hadn’t helped, he felt better now, a little. There was something comforting knowing that he wasn’t the only one with suspicions.

       “You cannot hide from us all, Potter and one day, you will slip and I will be waiting,” he murmured before looking out the window. Thin dawn light stained the sky and he rose. He needed to sleep before Potter returned. He would need his wits about him.

 

 


	13. Diagon Alley

Weapon  
Chapter 13 Diagon Alley

===

       Narcissa awoke with a start, breathing hard. She gasped and laid one hand on her chest to try to calm her shuddering heart. She could remember her dream clearly and it worried her. A glass of water appeared beside her and she drank gently and the water soothed her nerves somewhat.

       She had been awoken by a nightmare and looked out at the thin light. The manor felt wrong without her husband but she had to continue. Draco needed her so she had to continue. Her dream though, her dream was disturbing.

       It had begun well. She had been watching as Draco had gathered the support of those who had stood with his Father against the Dark Lord. She had watched, happily as some of the Dark Lord’s followers had turned against him, swearing their allegiance to her son. She knew that not all of the followers would come to her son’s call but even some would be enough. She had caught the impression of wings and knew that it was their tenshi heritage that meant this could be.

       There had been a worrying bit then, a shift in the ranks as their forces had considered what to do. Many had wanted to attack the Light, to show the Dark Lord their strength but do to that they would need the support of those who were forced to the loyalty of the Dark Lord and so the battle against the Light would have to wait until the Serpent had been destroyed. In the end all acceded to their wishes and the impression of wings had been pleased. It was only those with their power, their heritage who should rule, only those who had the right to decide these things.

       Gathering themselves they had gone to challenge the Dark Lord

       The battle had been long and fierce. She didn’t mind that. The serpent wasn’t going down without a fight but near the end, when Draco, as was his right was challenging the Serpent Lord, she had once more caught the sense of wings and had smiled. All was how it should be...

       Until...

       Narcissa gasped aloud at the memory.

       Draco had the Dark Lord cornered! Her son! Against his might he had the Serpent Lord cornered as his human power could not stand against the might of their tenshi heritage and Draco was destined to rule. His power was such that it had to rule. The Serpent had been frustrated but every move that he had made was anticipated and Narcissa had felt a sense of building pride at her Son’s actions. She had trained him well.

       But then the Serpent had laughed, although rage had flashed through his eyes as their shouted conversation had continued, he was composed enough to harness his power... and such power.

       It was then that she had felt a stab of uncertainty. Such power was not that of a Serpent... The Serpent Lord had gathered himself, and the darkness had moved around him, the shadows had supported him. She knew them though, and knew how to fight them but the searing light that Draco had created had not dispersed them and they continued to gather around the Serpent, caressing him, supporting him, obeying him...

       She had stepped forward then because she had had no choice. Her son had fought well but he was still a child and against that power... She had matched the Serpent Lord, blow for blow they had fought and she knew this was how her husband had felt, how her husband had fought but the outcome was destined to be different this time because as much as she loved Lucius, it was the son he had gifted her with that was her life.

       Each time she had thought she won though the Serpent Lord laughed and matched her power. She had pulled on Draco’s ability then, and all their followers, pulling all the power she could access to attack the hated one.

       The blow was incredible. It was almost a pure magic storm. When it passed she had expected to see nothing but charred bones and torn fabric.

       He laughed!

       He laughed at her, not a single fold of fabric on his robes out of place.

       She hated the laugh the most and it was in hating that she almost didn’t notice the pure black wings that were unfurled above him.

       _Tenshi._

       The realisation had taken a moment to sink in and as the Serpent Lord raised his hand, pure power collecting there she could only stare, transfixed by the beauty of the wings. She couldn’t see their owner. She didn’t need to. It was a pure blood. It was a pure blood with pure intentions to have wings of that colour.

       She couldn’t fight that...

       And then the power the Serpent Lord gathered had struck and she had awoken.

       A tenshi...

       Did her dream mean that the Serpent Lord was backed by a tenshi... that couldn’t be the case though. Full blooded tenshi did not interfere with humans. Not like this... Or did it mean that he had the power to match a tenshi? With the fact that she couldn’t identify the tenshi that was also a possibility.

       She had always known that the entire battle would come down to who held the most sheer raw power but she had never thought that the Serpent Lord might. It wasn’t possible for him, so many generations removed from a tenshi to match that power. It shouldn’t be possible, when she and Draco could trace their generations on one hand. Their power should so far eclipse a mere mortals that the possibility that he should be able to match them was non-existent...

       Or did it mean that he had the skill and experience to match up with the power?

       That was also a possibility. Power was one thing but skill was a lot. Draco had... or would have power but he had yet to acquire the skill and the experience that the Serpent Lord had. She would admit that. She’d be a fool if she thought otherwise. Sometimes could only come through time and the Serpent Lord had lived far longer than his due. He had had that time.

       Yes... that had to be it.

       No pure blood tenshi would interfere so the wings behind him were only metaphorical.

       There was no way he could hold the power to match her when she manifested her birth right fully but truly his power would seem that way to a normal wizard.

       It had to be that he had the skill and experience and that even with all the power she could call, she had to be wary because wasting that power would mean she and her son would fail. Even with power, they had to tread carefully.

       Narcissa took another sip of water before rising and moving to the window. The thin dawn light that had greeted her earlier was now brighter and she could see that the day was going to be clear. She knew though, now what had to be done. Draco’s training would have to begin in earnest.

===

       Ginny looked up into the wane dawn light. She was exhausted but she couldn’t sleep, not yet, not until she knew everything was okay. She couldn’t feel him, not even an echo and that worried her. While Harry had severed the bond, leaving it as she had requested, she had always been able to feel an echo from him and it had comforted her, knowing that she wasn’t completely alone, knowing she could help him if needed.

       She couldn’t feel him now though. She couldn’t feel anything.

       Coming from a wizarding family she knew what was involved with the Coming of Age Ceremony and she knew how complex some families made it. Weasley family tradition was relaxed about the Ceremony although there were considerations made for the power of the individual. This was one of those things that just had to be done properly and so even though most of them didn’t like it, they had spent the appropriate time in the garage, with their father’s muggle possessions since it was the strongest warded section of the house. Or if at Hogwarts, they made the appropriate arrangements there. It was usually taken care of so quietly that most weren’t even aware of it.

       She didn’t think the Potter Family made that much of the Ceremony but she wasn’t sure since the records were very personal. With Harry’s power though, and the fact that she couldn’t sense him, she supposed Dumbledore had placed him in seclusion for the night.

       It wasn’t fair!

       It just wasn’t fair. She only wanted to help him. She only wanted what was best for him, so why couldn’t she help him? She would sacrifice whatever it took, she would keep any secret just so long as she could stay with him, just so long as he would love her, just a little bit. She had loved him for as long as she could remember and it hurt. The fact that he had willingly gone to another was a dull pain inside her always and as much as she struggled against it, she wasn’t sure she could win. She accepted him as he was, why wouldn’t he accept her?

       Ginny curled up on her bed, tears forming in her eyes.

       It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair! She hurt so much, she loved so much. She only wanted what was best for him. She remain with him for all time, so why couldn’t he love her now, why had he bade her wait?

       The Dark Lord had nothing.

       The Dark Lord had everything.

       Ginny gulped as her thoughts spiralled. The Dark Lord had nothing, deserved no respect, no regard from Harry but he had it, and so the Dark lord had everything. Wealth, power, love. Everything.

       She looked back out the window, concentrating on the lightening sky. It would be a fine day, and Harry would properly celebrate his birthday today. With a bit of luck Dumbledore would bring him over so that they could celebrate properly since the Headmaster knew that her mother considered Harry a part of the Weasley family. He was just another son to her, another beloved child. That didn’t bother Ginny, she didn’t mind that. Harry was to her so much more than a brother.

       But he was the Dark Lord’s.

       Or the Dark Lord was his.

       Whichever way their relationship worked.

       She was only there because Harry let her be there and she was no where. She knew that. She didn’t want to think it though but Voldemort had everything she could not give him - wealth and power. Love was something Harry knew she was more than happy to give. No, she had to match the Dark Lord, somehow she had to match him in some way so that Harry would view her as an equal, so that the Dark Lord would know he wasn’t the only one who held the Boy-Who-Lived’s heart.

       Love... She was sure she already matched him there. She knew Harry, she knew what he liked and what he didn’t like. She was prepared to sacrifice the world for him, her world for him. She had risked it all, and she was continuing to risk it all. She kept his secret, she kept everything safe and she would die without hesitation for him. He knew that, she knew that. There was nothing more she could do to express her affection and following him around like a puppy at school was not likely to help the situation or she would have done that from her first year.

       Wealth... Ginny snorted to herself. She couldn’t see any way she would ever be able to match the Serpent Lord’s wealth. He could draw upon his followers when he chose and wealth wasn’t something that truly interested Harry anyway. His inheritance ensured that. Even if she somehow managed to go into partnership with the Twins, and then if their ventures bore fruit, she wouldn’t be able to match him. In terms of money, there was nothing she could do. It was a blow but it was one she had conceded long ago.

       Children... Ha! He had no need of them and if he did, she would give them to him when he asked. She would do that willingly, gladly for the regard but she wanted more than mere regard. Ginny knew her parents were happily married but she knew that many wizarding and muggle families were not so happy. Children were not a reason for people to remain together. Children were not a reason for people to come together. Children would only be a fringe benefit of her sex, nothing more, nothing less and they may not even be necessary. Immortality was the Dark Lord’s goal and Ginny doubted that he hadn’t shared that gift with his mate. There were those who would argue that, but she was sure that Voldemort had attained it. Somehow she knew.

       So that left power... Ginny shivered. That was possibly an even more impossible dream than wealth. The Weasley’s were known to be an average wizarding line that had held true to the Light. They were diligent workers, caring, honest and open. They were not known for their power or any special ability. They were known for their shocking red hair and in this generation for the fact that there were lots of them. She smiled a bit at that before she turned serious again. They had no talismans or techniques, no special family spells and all they had was a vague affinity with animals but even that was hard to see. Charlie had that the most of all of them, although Bill perhaps had an affinity with insects. It was hard to tell. But how was that power?

       It wasn’t, plain and simple, it wasn’t.

       Short of completely transforming herself as Voldemort had with his rebirth, she would never match his power and she couldn’t reform herself because she wouldn’t even know where to begin. That wasn’t an option... which left her with what..?

       Nothing.

       Nothing more than what Harry was prepared to give, and nothing more than he had already given her, unless he was hiding something and she didn’t think he was.

       But he had said he could come to love her. He could come to love her and she could come to love him without misconceptions between them. But could he love her when he loved the Dark Lord, would he even come to see her at all? Or was that just said to sooth her feelings? He thought too much of others, she knew that, had he thought of her and done that...

       No... he had kept the bond, or at least part of it. If he truly felt nothing for her, he would have broken it completely since she knew he wouldn’t want anyone dying for him, not even her. So he felt something... something...

       Something that could grow.

       Something that they could develop together this year.

       There was after all, one thing upon which the Serpent Lord could not hope to match her in. Age. While it was no doubt enjoyable to have an older lover, there were times when she knew Harry would need the company of one his own age. Voldemort could not hope to provide that. And so there was something Harry and she could grow together, a commonness between them that they could share. It wasn’t much but it would provide a point Harry could turn to her on and she would be there, waiting for him when the time came, just as she would be there, all semester, all through the future, supporting him.

       They’d spend more time together this semester, they had to, then he would see how much he loved her, and how much she loved him.

       “Love him Harry, but love me as well,” Ginny murmured looking out at the sun as she got up, reaching out to pick up her hair brush. She had to be presentable before she went to breakfast. “I will always be there for you Harry, he can’t promise you that, I can. I can’t offer you power, I can’t offer you wealth, I can only offer myself... but you already know that, don’t you?”

       Ginny smiled, blue eyes happier. Harry knew that. Harry had always known that. And they would work on that together, starting today, when she saw him for his proper birthday celebration.

       They would work on that together.

===

       Harry blinked sleepily not quite awake but not aware enough to care even though he could hear a conversation going on around him. He was used to that though, used to waking up to the sound of people talking but he wasn’t used to that conversation being in parselmouth... even so he couldn’t bring himself to raise his attention. He was warm, and comfortable, and there was a feeling of satisfaction coursing through his body. He didn’t need to be awake. As he dreamily closed his eyes, trying to name, the conversation continued around him and he allowed himself to be lulled by it.

       -You appear well, little one.-

       -As do you, Sire.-

       -This human’s mind is similar to mine, so it was an easy adjustment. We get along well.-

       -He is... He is different, Sire. I don’t think I will ever be a Serpent Lord.-

       -Ss, ss, ss...- There was the sound of reptilian laughter.

       -Sire?-

       -I know and I do not expect you to be. We recognise other positions of power. Besides, I am the Serpent Lord and there is no need for two.-

       Xaos nodded, eyes closing briefly as he acknowledged the point but the quiver in his crest betrayed that he was still not at ease.

       -Just continue as you have been Little One. You will do well. Your host will not be acknowledged as a Serpent Lord but shall through my host be known as a Serpent’s Mate and through you as a Serpent King. There is no shame in that. He has his own power to follow.-

       -And he is awake,- the timbre of the voice altered slightly and even through sleep Harry knew it was the human who had spoken. It reminded him of something and as he awoke completely he glared into red eyes.

       “You bit me!”

       Voldemort laughed softly. “Yes I did but you don’t appear too badly off and it is a part of the ritual.”

       Something in Harry shifted and he felt the piece of Fawkes move restlessly. It thought he was still asleep but he was going to have to let out the illusion of himself soon, least Fawkes notice the trap and all be lost. When he left this room he would return to being he they expected and already the loss of freedom was clamping down upon him.

       “A ritual you cannot complete yet,” Harry retorted with perhaps slightly more force than he meant but the impeding entrapment did not encourage him to be subtle. The ritual was one of basilisks bonding. It was the marking of mutual ownership and it ensured that both were immune to the other’s eyes and venom in all situations. The link between them was already complete, this would just enhance it.

       For an instant it seemed like the combination of Dark Lord and Serpent would strike and show Harry just how much the ritual couldn’t be completed but then logic clouded lust and the Dark Lord seemed as annoyed as Harry about the situation. “I know, but separation is not sweet sorrow and it is not something I enjoy. You are mine Little One, and I want the world to know that.”

       “I want the world to know that as well,” Harry murmured soothingly, shifting himself against the older man. “And the waiting is not easy on me too. I want them to see the truth, I want them to know but I want us to be able to enjoy that knowledge, not fight against their denial for years and so this is the way it must be.”

       “Xatarass always says we humans complicate things and that I should just bite Dumbledore and be done with it... But that would not end it.”

       “If it would, I would have bitten him already,” Harry said. “But you want absolute victory not the temporary peace of shock. And we will have that, in time.”

       “Sooner than you realise I think, if you can tap into your full potential, my Little One.”

       “Hmm?”

       “Your animagus form, do you not feel the power?”

       Harry looked at himself. He could remember something pulling him apart and power begging for his attention but he didn’t remember much after that until he had awoken to find his beloved coupling with him. A pleasurable state but one he hadn’t been able to reciprocate until later. His hands didn’t appear much different until he noted that his nails were thicker and longer... They were no longer nails but claws and for some reason he could see a lot more detail on the skin... bumps and ridges and curves which hadn’t been there before and they pulsed with an energy that flickered slightly, waves of it rising off him. With the sudden consciousness of his body he felt pulled back, as if his centre of gravity had changed and Harry shifted and was surprised to hear the rustle of feathers. He concentrated on his shoulder blades and felt something move, cutting through the air freely and feeling light.

       “Wha... What am I?”

       The Dark Lord smiled. “You are very beautiful,” he said softly, kissing Harry’s forehead before he answered the question Harry really wanted. “You are a tenshi.”

       “A tenshi?” The black haired boy was still surprised. Thanks to the knowledge of his beloved he knew something about tenshi’s but the amount of information didn’t seem to be enough. Perhaps he had finally found something that hadn’t been transferred to him.

       “I don’t know much about them, no one does,” Voldemort said. “By your very being, you will know more about them and I think your little shadows know more.”

       :Of course we do,: came the unconcerned whisper, :but at the moment, there are other things that are more important.:

       “Such as?”

       :Such as the time.:

       Harry tilted his head. “What time is it?” He asked. He had to stay in this room until morning but he didn’t know how long he’d slept. Even so, the last thing he wanted was for Dumbledore to come looking for him. Being wrapped in the Dark Lord’s arms was not an image he wanted the Headmaster to think about for a while, even if it was warm and comfortable and he felt loved and accepted, even if it was where he wanted to stay. Not yet. He couldn’t be seduced by it yet.

       “It is unfortunately time my precious that you were gone. Coming of Age Ceremonies, even for the powerful, do not last this long into the next day but they will assume you were sleeping.” Voldemort said the last as he rose, a long fingered hand reaching out to pick up his wand before he flicked it through a lazy shape, transfiguring fresh robes for them both from the shreds of fabric that was all that remained of their others.

       Harry sat for a while longer, feeling his wings arch over his head before the ends splayed on the ground behind him. They felt comfortable. His new form felt right, somehow but he couldn’t just get dressed and go to greet Dumbledore because not even that ancient wizard could fail to detect the scent of last night’s activities.

       The Hogwarts Headmaster would rightly assume that his partner had been the Dark Lord but would the wrongly believe that it was yet another demonstration of the Serpent Lord’s power and would act with his full power. Voldemort would fight him, and no matter what happened, Voldemort would not be hurt, but Harry might reveal those things they weren’t ready for. No... he had to be clean when he left here but that could be a problem... There were cleaning and bathing charms but none really hid the smell of sex...

       “I can’t...” he said quietly. “They’ll smell it.”

       “Smell what, Little One?” Voldemort asked as he turned, tongue flickering to sample the air before a slow satisfied smile formed on his features as he realised what his mate was talking about. “Oh...” He was amused but at the same time he shared Harry’s concern.

       :It is nothing,: the shadow’s interjected. :Master, complete your transformation, then change back into human, and there will be no problem.:

       “Complete? You mean that is not everything?” The Serpent Lord seemed incredulous.

       :Of course it’s not everything,: the shadows said tersely. :That’s a halflings form.:

       The Serpent Lord’s eyes opened wide and he looked back at his mate, reassessing what he could see. Power... Power almost without end was what he could see and that was the form of a halfling..?

       :Pure bloods are pure magic,: the shadows began explaining. :They have no corporal form unless they will it and they can only be defeated by the application of more power. The form you are in now, Master is that of a Halfling because you are still holding on to your human self. That why it feels so comfortable but it is something you must let go of. Master, you will always be who you are. The shape in not important to us, Master, only your power is.:

       The Dark Lord looked at his mate softly. Still... Harry might understand but he still needed to know such things. “Your shape is appealing to me, Little One,” he said, adding his words of reassurance to the Shadows’. “But of more importance is your ability. I have always said that. You are beautiful to me, not because of your impressively beautiful physical form but for the power you wield my precious and you are mine, no matter what form you take. You are more than human to me, so do not let that limitation hold you back.”

       Harry looked confused for a moment before he realised, he had already completed the most difficult part of the animagus transformation. He had been afraid of the initial loss of his humanity but with his current shape, he couldn’t be called human. In mind he was human, in soul he was human but in shape he was not, so there was nothing left for him to fear. “How?” He asked.

       :Just follow our lead,: the Shadow’s said. :This time, we can show you how it’s done.: They added, streaming around him, snuggling close.

       They began seeping inside and Harry smiled as they tickled him. :See here, Master, feel here,: they gave the instructions, twisting slightly, pulling to indicate where he should change first. He closed emerald eyes, focusing on what they were showing him, letting the feeling coming from his body guide him. It was almost an unconscious process, where it should have been one driven by knowledge and while he did feel the information there, Harry couldn’t bring himself to apply it. This was something that felt much more comfortable, much more natural if he did it this way. There was a moment when his whole body tingled, pulsing with pins and needles and then, the feeling drained out of him, pouring out through his finger tips and toes.

       Once it had past he felt light. The previous form had felt light but this felt, this almost felt like he wasn’t there but it was a warm feeling and Harry braced himself as he opened his eyes again.

       Nothing was like it should be. He’d seen this before though, when he changed his eyes to see magic. There were swirls and streams of power everywhere. The Dark Lord looked like a serpent that was a flame with power and his aura pulsed around him powerfully. The shielding of the room was interlaced and perfect, layered slightly for maximum strength but outside it Harry could see the magic of the world. He could see Ollivander, a bright humanoid shape that had a fuzzy back... The wand maker was too powerful to be true but then Harry knew there had to be a reason everyone deferred to him beyond his neutrality. His power though... no... it wasn’t that a of Wizard, Harry concluded, as he looked around further. With Ollivander there were three other beings.

       Dumbledore he recognised after a moment. The Headmasters aura was controlled, and his power seemed to almost flow through him like blood, each pulse controlled and uniform. The paths within him were well defined. One of the others was shadowed, the true extent of their power masked and their whole being seemed fuzzy. Harry smiled as he recognised the effects of the shadows. That had to be Sirius because his servants wouldn’t do that for anyone else, not yet. The last one though was curious. His power seemed to be pulled in two directions. One was the normal humanoid form for a wizard, power moving up and down his arms and legs as it streamed through him. The other was more scattered. Not more powerful, but more scattered as if it didn’t know what to do and wasn’t quite sure how to handle the power it had. That other form was shorter that a human but was not diminished by that. Harry squinted, looking further... Remus, he eventually decided, trying to focus firmly on the second lot of power and catching, just slightly the sense of wrongness about it. Yes, that was the power signature of a werewolf, and Lupin was the only one who would be here waiting for him.

       Beyond them all there were more sparks of power and the Boy-Who-Lived determined that they were morning shoppers in Diagon Alley. It was time to leave.

       “It’s time,” He said as he looked back at his mate, ignoring the way that when he moved his power seemed to rustle around him. It was unconscious movement but Harry knew he could control it with a thought if he desired. He was surprised though, when he was forced to look down to see his mate and belatedly he realised he was hovering. “I... what?” He asked, dropping to the floor and looking back at himself properly.

       His form appeared solid but that was only because the power flows were so tightly packed within him. He tried focusing further but was dizzy with the number of combinations he could see and the way that everything spiralled around each other. It almost hurt to look and he turned away. There were some things you weren’t meant to know all at once.

       “My Little One,” Voldemort said, and the smile was evident in his voice, a gloating, joyful smile, one that betrayed almost an eternity of pleasure. “You had better not forget who owns you, least I destroy the world. They called me a seducer, but I could only seduce the individual. You, my little Basilisk, you could seduce the world with a glance, and right at the moment, I find it difficult to care that the old man is waiting.” A long fingered hand reached out, and gently traced along the curve of Harry’s face. It didn’t touch him but Harry felt the Dark Lord’s power tickling along his own and so it felt like he was touched. He could hear though a litany, a soft hiss within his mind and knew it was the underlying emotion that his mate felt. Mine, mine, mine, so beautiful, mine, mine, mine... “You are mine,” the Serpent Lord articulated his desire, “And I will prove that to you and the world as many times as it takes until there is no doubt and no one dares to think that they may even look upon you without my permission.” The shadows purred in Harry’s mind and he got the impression that not everything would be as Voldemort desired but he couldn’t bring himself to correct his beloved. There were some things that always changed from what you wanted. The Dark Lord knew that and so didn’t need to be reminded of it.

       “What do I smell like?” Harry asked, ignoring the ownership debate.

       A serpentine tongue licked lips as the Dark Lord and Xatarass sampled the air. “Like power,” came the final assessment. “The room smells of sex but you are power.”

       “Just so long as I smell like innocent power when I change back,” Harry said, flexing his form a little to know where the edges of his being was. He might have been energy at the time but the habits of a corporal body were hard to break and knowing one’s boundaries was instinctive. “So, to change back I...” he murmured, running through the steps that were required to resume human form mentally.

       It was fairly simple because it was the form ingrained within him. It was the form that was natural. A lot of magic was like this. You knew the process but you didn’t direct every part of it because once started you trusted the magic to take care of the rest. That was where mastery lay. Being able to direct every part of every spell, meant that you understood it completely but more importantly you could disrupt it, change it, make it do what you wanted it to.

       When the Dark Lord in combat seemed to stop another’s charm without countering it that was what he was doing. He was simply taking control of the magic in a section where the caster wasn’t directing it and forcing the charm to do his bidding. He changed the streams of magic to something more useful to him rather than what the intended charm said. It was simple really, anyone could do it, but not everyone had the ability to understand magic to that level or the will to take conscious control over something that was unconscious.

       All Harry did really to change back into his human form was picture vaguely how he had been and will his power to flow in that direction. He mentally said the words of the animagus charm and he felt his power react as it began flowing on the path that was his human form. He felt himself change and relaxed.

       It didn’t hurt this time because he wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t be afraid of this again, and this time he was changing into what he thought was right.

       When it was done though he sighed and sat cross legged, looking at his feet. He was human but... it felt empty.

       “Harry?”

       “It’s alright,” he said after a moment. “Do I smell okay?” He asked reaching out to take the robes that had been created earlier.

       “You smell clean. It doesn’t suit you. It makes me what to dirty you,” Voldemort said, reaching out to embrace his mate. He licked roughly along Harry’s neck. “And you still taste good, but you are concerned about something...”

       “I feel... I feel empty. I feel weak.”

       :Because you are human,: the Shadow’s said softly. :Bear with it, Master, just for a little while.:

       “That is why I said you should not let the limitation that is humanity hold you back. And for wizards like us, my Little Basilisk, it is a limitation. You will learn to control it though, in time. I would show you but I think it better for Dumbledore’s benefit if you learn that under his tuition so that he feels you are not a threat or at least so he believes that you are one controlled.” Long fingers tugged the last of Harry’s robes into position, smoothing them slightly. “Now... though it pains me, you should go, least they come looking. While I would enjoy showing them your true loyalty, now is not yet the time.”

       Harry closed his eyes briefly, trying to adjust to the feeling that was coursing through his body. His muscles felt hollow and his eye lids felt heavy. He had had power in his grasp and it was his but it almost felt like he had let it go, it almost felt like he had given it up.

       But he would regain it. Later, he would regain it and he would learn to control it and he won’t be hindered by the shell of humanity. Not if he was going to feel like this.

       “Kiss me goodbye,” he said, putting his arms around the Dark Lord’s waist. “I’ll need something to remember you with,” he added, pulling his mind away from what was only a temporary physical weakness.

       “And last night was not enough?” Voldemort asked archly.

       “Last night was just a warm up.” Harry responded saucily. Last night was simply a sample of how they would spend their nights once everything was over.

       The Dark Lord was eager to comply with his mates request and he supported Harry’s head with one long fingered hand as they kissed. As always his mate tasted of aniseed and vanilla, the two combined uniquely into something that was addictive. Innocence and experience, power and strength, youth with maturity... his beloved was everything the Dark Lord wanted. He wondered how history would record it if the two of them gave into their desires mid battle...

       Separation might be the fastest and most efficient way of getting absolute control over the world but that didn’t mean it was easy.

       They pulled back eventually, flushed slightly but each tasting of the other.

       “Now go,” Voldemort said. “Dumbledore will no doubt want to test the new extent of your power.”

       Harry smiled in that way that the Dark Lord knew no one but him had ever seen. It was a smile full of confidence, arrogant and almost self-righteous but oh so true for his mate. “He’ll find that out in time. For now though, I’ll show him exactly what he wants to see.” He reached out and opened the door, not looking back as it closed behind him.

       Voldemort watched the door close and sat back into the chair, enjoying the quiet that was the shielded chamber. He had to go as well. He had many things to do but first...

       “You will help him?”

       :Of course we will. He is our Master and our Master cannot afford weakness.:

       The Dark Lord nodded as the shadows flickered and faded. They would teach Harry what he needed to know because it suited them not him but that would be enough.

===

       Harry leaned against the door as he shifted his mental state around, his true self retreating to allow the illusion which entertained Fawkes free reign. The shift didn’t hurt and it wasn’t that unpleasant except in the manner that it was not what he wanted. He was becoming used to it, and it was fairly comfortable but it was not what he wanted. 

       Outside of the shielding he could now feel Dumbledore and the others clearly and he could sense that they had felt him already as well. He wasn’t sure what he was doing today though as the Hogwarts Headmaster hadn’t elaborated much past the Coming of Age Ceremony.

       Probably celebrations today with training tomorrow since yesterday, while it had been his birthday, he hadn’t been in any fit state to truly celebrate. He had to write some thank you letters as well for the gifts he’d received. He was looking forward to training because he was looking forward to seeing what abilities they thought he should have and he was looking forward to seeing what they would use to counter his beloved. No matter how good the Dark Lord’s spy network things were different from the outside looking in as opposed to the inside looking out.

       It was amusing that they would be in that position but in the end would arrive at the same place. Harry shook his head as he began walking through the stacks of wands. He could think about that later. For now, he had to get back to Hogwarts and he really wanted to see Ginny... or at least write to her. He hadn’t been able to see her on his birthday and wouldn’t any life mate want to see his other half every day?

       “‘Morning,” he said brightly as he emerged into Ollivander’s shop, and showed himself around the counter to come to stand just on the edge of the space available to customers.

       “Good morning, Harry,” Dumbledore greeted him with a smile and twinkling eyes. “How are you feeling?”

       “Well thank you,” Harry said. “But I can’t remember much of what happened yesterday. Is that normal?”

       Remus laughed. “Very normal,” he said soothingly, “Not that there is much too remember,” he added easily. “Although I remember that time with... Heh... never mind Harry. It’s good to have you back.”

       “Did everything go smoothly?” Sirius asked, his voice showing his concern. “Do you feel any different?”

       “A little,” Harry said carefully. “I feel more aware of things,” he explained as his true self whispered, :I feel more aware of how weak this form is.: “I feel like I’ve grown but everything still fits.”

       Ollivander chuckled at that. “I hear that reaction a lot from may wizards and witches. Does your wand still fit?”

       “Hm?”

       “Does your wand still fit?”

       “I think so.”

       “Try it.”

       Harry looked at Dumbledore but the ancient wizard just nodded, indicating that he should bring his wand out for the wand maker to see if it still fit, although how a wand didn’t fit was a little strange unless it never fitted in the first place.

       :It’s in your left pocket,: the Shadow’s whispered to him, allowing themselves to flicker visibly.

       Ancient blue eyes widened slightly but Dumbledore was careful to limit his reaction to that at the sign of Harry’s servants. Sirius’ reaction remained bland while both Ollivander and Remus remained unaffected. :We think it’s time we appeared in your presence so that everyone knows what your power is and everyone can expect us. We have always been here but it’s time to show exactly how pervasive we are.: They explained briefly to Harry before they fell silent again as their Master drew out his wand.

       When the thirteen inches of yew didn’t react for an instant Ollivander pursed his lips before Harry seemed to burst into flames, the power of the wand reacting with his and making him feel warm with the assurance that it would be there for him, always working to help him focus his abilities.

       “I guess everything still does fit,” the Wand maker said cheerfully as Harry controlled the discharge of magic, limiting his aura again as most learnt to unconsciously do in first year. Although that little display just confirmed what he had suspected a while ago and the silver eyed man could tell, just by looking at Dumbledore’s face that the ancient wizard hadn’t figured it out. He still did not understand the differences between broken and bent.

       “Well then,” Dumbledore smiled, “I thank you Ollivander for the use of your room but we should be off since I’m sure you would much rather be dealing with paying customers.” He lead the way to the door and pulled it open with the tingle of bells. “I will speak to you later.”

       The Wand maker nodded and simply guided them out, paying close attention to the way young Harry moved and felt. Everything did still fit as the boy had indicated but... something had changed since last night and it appeared to be more than should have changed with the Coming of Age Ceremony or even in the presence of his mate. He seemed more... self-contained... more sure of his abilities, almost as if he had been amplified. Ollivander shook his head as he watched them disappear into the crowds of Diagon Alley. With Mr Potter it seemed nothing was what it should be. He would have to tread carefully.

       :No, you will have to maintain neutrality, nothing more.: A shadow said as it slide into the corner again.

       “You’re not accompanying your Master?” He asked as he puttered back towards the counter. He had better check on his other guest.

       :I’m not,: the shadow said as it followed smoothly, :but you know that one is not the sum of the whole.:

       He smiled. “You are talkative today,” he commented, knocking politely on the door to the shielded room.

       :Because it is time we entered the game.:

       Ollivander glanced towards the shadow but it simply merged with the darkness and it was only because he didn’t see as a human that he could tell the difference between it and the shadows cast by the stacks of wands. If they were truly going to enter this game then... things would be very interesting.

       ===

       Voldemort sat quietly. The shielded room of the Wandmaker was comforting in its own way, peaceful and quiet, as if was somehow removed from the rest of the world. With the night just past he had a lot of things to consider.

       A tenshi.

       Harry was a tenshi.

       A pure blooded tenshi with pure white wings but more power than he knew what to do with. It had been little wonder that returning to human form had made him feel weak. It was a weak form comparatively.

       But even so, what did being a tenshi truly mean beyond the ability to potentially harness almost a limitless supply of power?

       The first answer was obvious.

       It meant that more than him, more than Dumbledore, more than anyone else living or dead, historical or not, Harry was the most powerful wizard in existence. The sheer raw power he could harness without even needing to call upon his servants ensured that.

       The serpent smiled at that. It meant that in controlling this being, he controlled pure power. It meant that his eventual victory was assured.

       But on a more personal level it did mean that Harry would have to choose to submit to him... There was no way he could force his mate into submission... And while the boy might be happy to now... his servants were dominating, would they be happy with submission always? He wasn’t sure about that answer.

       :We are happy if our Master is happy,: a shadow said. :As we told him once, we are bound to serve him but it is easier for us to get what we want from him if he is happy and compliant and so we will do what it takes to ensure his happiness. If that means submitting to you Serpent Lord then that is what he will do, however do not expect us to submit to you.:

       “I don’t,” Voldemort replied a loud. “But by your own admission, if it made Harry happy to screw some idiot female, you would have already seen to my demise.”

       :Not necessarily. We have our own goal, Serpent Lord. Your ascension to power forms a part of that.:

       “Only because I have claimed him. Things could have been different.”

       :They could have been very different but they are not.:

       “I have no desire to lose my mate.”

       :You won’t.:

       “I won’t because I already have, or I won’t because you won’t let it happen?” the Dark Lord questioned but the Shadow remained silent. Harry had responded to him but had not responded to his claims of ownership.

       Xatarass hissed at him. -Does it matter? The whelp is mine and through him, yours. He cannot escape, bonded or not he cannot escape.-

       “He is one of the few I cannot force Xatarass and one of the only ones I do not wish to force but you are correct, acknowledged or not, he is mine and I will make certain that his body remembers that, should he forget.”

       -Be careful, it is not truly submission that you want.-

       Voldemort smiled. Xatarass was right. He wanted submission in that he never wanted Harry to look elsewhere because Harry was his. He wanted submission in that he wanted his little basilisk to stay with him but he would accept an equal partnership. At full power Harry was beautiful beyond words and his touch was something to be yearned for.

       He wanted what he wanted because he wanted it all.

       The Dark Lord rose, reaching down to pick up his outer robe from where it had been discarded hours ago. It was rather crumpled but a quick charm fixed that. He flicked it around his shoulders but was surprised to see something flutter from it.

       A feather. A single white feather.

       “Oh...” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. He hadn’t known Harry could be that vindictive... but his mate had a true sense of pleasure and turned even punishment into enjoyment... No, he didn’t really want Harry to submit at all.

       He picked it up, twisting it between his fingers and admiring the way the light caught the natural sheen on the feather. It seemed almost to glow with its own light but the Dark Lord knew it was simply the reflection and refraction of light through the normal oils that were present in healthy feathers. He ruffled it with one finger and watched as it realigned itself, preening itself back into its perfect shape.

       “Heh...” He’d wondered how a halfling was meant to keep their feathers preened. Birds had no problem but they had beaks... It appeared though that tenshi got around the preening problem by simply having self-preening feathers. That would make the maintenance of their form simpler and it bespoke power. For the feather to maintain itself, away from its originator... it had power in and of itself but then... it had come from a magical being. A magical being who was Harry... perhaps it would make a...

       A knock on the door brought him from his reverie and he looked up.

       :The wand maker,: the shadow’s informed him as he tensed before they retreated almost into nothing.

       Ah... he should perhaps have been expecting this since Ollivander would no doubt wish to set this room to rights quickly and his prolonged presence within the store was not something that was required or probably particularly desired.

       “Come,” he called, slipping the feather into a pocket. He could consider it more later.

       The door swung open easily and Ollivander looked around briefly before looking over at his guest. There was nothing to see. He had been a seducer once and had learnt how to clean up from such escapades very effectively.

       “They are gone now.”

       Voldemort nodded, “Thank you. I shall leave as well then.”

       “That would be best.”

       “I thank you though for the opportunity to stay with my mate when he needed me.”

       “Ah,” Ollivander said with a smile. “But I gather the experience wasn’t quite what you thought it would be.”

       “It wasn’t disappointing,” the Dark Lord said with a mysterious smile. “But you were correct in your warning. It is most forth right with its desires and I think the game is about to get a lot more interesting, even for one such as you who watches.”

       Ollivander smiled slightly as the Dark Lord unknowingly named his occupation. “I will continue to watch,” he said. “I have no intention of breaking neutrality, no matter who asks. The games of you wizards are of no concern to me.”

       “Oh, I did not mean to imply that you would. Your neutrality is not expected but is respected, at least by me and I would not be so foolish as to seek to force you to join my cause. Even so, the games we wizards play cannot be of such little concern if you watch.”

       The wand maker froze, looking sharply at the Dark Lord. He didn’t know what he was talking about but his guesses were very close to the truth. But then Riddle had always been prepared to acknowledge that he wasn’t the only one with a plan, that he wasn’t the only one trying to achieve something but with the acknowledgement did not always come acceptance but the wand maker’s neutrality was not something that was open to questioning.

       He was neutral because he was the watcher, and while the games of wizards were interesting, no matter what they might think, they could not affect the tenshi, not really. They might be able to affect one or two individual tenshi but if wizards truly threatened them, then they would band together and that would be the end of that. A wizard, no matter how powerful or who they followed could not hope to win against the might of a tenshi. It was only the fact that the tenshi did not care about the corporal world that mean the wizards could dominate. Wizards and tenshi had different roles within magic and one should not be so arrogant as to think they could replace the other. That went both ways. Which was why he watched. Sometimes there were those wizards who thought they could control a tenshi, who did affect the fabric of magic and watched for them so that they could be controlled.

       “I am neutral,” he said carefully. “I have always been neutral and I will always be neutral. I only act to preserve that neutrality or to protect the interests of those I do watch for but so far I have never needed to act. No matter what develops now, I doubt I will have need to act.”

       “I hope so,” Voldemort replied. “I do hope so because there are some things the serpent does not wish to see altered.”

       “Xatarass?”

       “The Line of Ximir respects your neutrality,” the serpent said, “we hope that you will continue to respect our choices.”

       Ollivander nodded. “Where those choices do not conflict with my objectives, you may do what you like.”

       Both man and serpent nodded at that, their air one of acceptance. This was something they both had to be clear on but it was better now.

       Voldemort moved to the door. “I thank you for your time and your hospitality this night. I thank you also for the warning about Xir,” he said formally as he turned to leave.

       “I thank you for your conversation and the explanation,” the wand maker said in an equally grave tone, “but you still owe me that core.”

       The Dark Lord laughed softly before pulled up short... The core for the wand. He reached into his robes pocket, pulling out the white feather. “Use this,” he said as he laid the feather down gently. “I think it will be appropriate.”

       Ollivander’s eyes opened wide as he saw the feather... “That is... where did you get this?” he asked. He could feel the power in it. He could almost see it even without trying. That was something the Dark Lord should not have had. But was it really..? The Dark Lord seemed to think it was so for now he would have to act appropriately. He could test it to be sure later.

       “It is very special, I know,” Voldemort said. “I almost forgot I had it,” he added, smiling slightly at the wand maker, “but it should be more than adequate for that wand. I think you’ll find it most adaptable.”

       Silver eyes blinked and the Dark Lord saw the wand maker take a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. “Yes,” he murmured as he accepted the feather. “It will more than compensate for the woods fragility.”

       Voldemort pulled up his hood, hiding his features as they emerged into the wand maker’s shop. There was a small family of wizards there so they couldn’t talk longer. “I’ll come by to collect it in a while,” he said conversationally, as if he was nothing more than another customer who had commissioned something special.

       “I will owl you when it’s ready,” Ollivander fell into the role play, despite his curiosity about the origins of the feather. There were tests he could run but they would only confirm the type of power the feather had and what level it was. Even if what he suspected was true, they couldn’t tell him who had given the Dark Lord such a dangerous gift. He couldn’t tell who was interfering in the balance by dealing with one of the few wizards who could affect them and he didn’t like that because then there were too many things he did not know about his own kind save that a black wing might be watching and a white wing was truly involved. “Please come again,” he added as the Dark Lord seemed to flow through the door, moving so smoothly that the bell didn’t even jingle.

       The wizarding family watched silently, sensing the power but somehow not intimidated by its display. At the same time though they were not curious about its owner and as Ollivander turned to deal with them, they completely forgot the one who had accompanied him from the rear of the store. There were, after all, many prosperous wizards within Diagon Alley, many who didn’t wish to be known. Even with the second rise of the Dark Lord, some things hadn’t changed.

===

       “Professor!” Harry called as their little group walked through Diagon Alley. It was different from how he remembered it. It looked much the same, if a little less crowded but there was a difference beyond the lack of school crowds. It was a little early for them. He looked around, trying to find what was wrong.

       There were other wizards and witches around but Harry realized with a start that none of them were alone. They were all, at the very least, in pairs, one who was shopping and one who was watching. Even the family groups were different. Usually it would have been a mother and children, now though it appeared the whole family was there. Mother, father, and children, all were on their best behaviour. There was no laughter, no squeals from play. There was nothing. The Alley was full of people but it was lifeless... Did they truly fear the Dark Lord that much?

       He was forced to reluctantly conclude yes. They were wizards, they shouldn’t fear him. He felt sad, but as Dumbledore turned to him, he couldn’t think about it more. It wasn’t something he could combat alone. “What happens now?” he asked, as they walked passed the Owlery.

       The birds were still magnificent and still on display; tawny, black, brown, and sooty. There were all colours including... a snowy...

       A sharp pang passed though Harry and he looked away quickly. He hadn’t thought of Hedwig for a while but he should have. She’d been through everything with him and she had always done her best for him, yet she’d died... No. She’d been murdered and that was something he never really thought about. It wasn’t that he’d been too busy, he wouldn’t take that excuse but it was because he hadn’t wanted too. Thinking about it would be to admit she was gone, would be to admit that not only had Draco arranged for Blaise and Millicent to hurt him but he had killed her... Thinking about it would get him angry and unconsciously his eyes burned with power... That Slytherin... like Bulstrode and Zabini... they all would...

       :Master! Calm!: The shadows snapped at him and Harry blinked, becoming aware of the power that seemed to rise off him in tangible waves, whipping around the alley and drawing the eyes of all present. The shadows were flickering around him, consuming the radiant wisps of energy and the whole effect was to make him seem like a small beacon of energy.

       “Harry!” Sirius and Remus were flustered but were both calling to him, while Dumbledore looked on, eyes sparking happily as he saw the visual effects of Harry’s power. Within him Fawkes hummed happily but sympathetically spreading warmth throughout his body. The phoenix’s power mingled with his own and he tingled all over, feeling energized by Fawkes’ song. He didn’t feel weak as he had when he had first changed back and now the lingering hollowness was reduced.

       The loss of weakness brought him back to himself and he reached out instinctively drawing his energy back into his body. The shadows sighed as their food disappeared and they followed the wisps of power back to their source, nestling themselves into the folds of Harry’s clothes.

       For a moment there was no movement before Harry bowed his head, gulping. “I’m sorry,” he said, resisting the urge to bite his lip. “I just... I just remembered Hedwig for a moment,” he said softly, glancing towards the Owlery.

       Expressions changed instantly from concern to sympathy and even Fawkes cooed sympathetically.

       “I’ll try harder. I won’t let it consume me,” Harry added.

       “It’s perfectly understandable, Harry, and we know that you miss her. We should have taken a different way.”

       “No Professor. It’s my fault. It shouldn’t... after this much time it shouldn’t affect me. I should remember her lovingly, not with tears. She may only have been an owl but she wouldn’t want me to cry every time I think about her.”

       Dumbledore nodded kindly, the tinkle in his blue eyes understanding but not quite covering the joy that had been there at Harry’s unconscious display of power. Although... sometime in the year they would have to get Harry a new Owl. He would need it. Maybe he should talk to Hagrid. Hedwig had been... Hedwig had been unique but Harry needed that, just as he would need all the protection they could give. He looked around, nodding at many of the watchers comfortingly before he began ushering the little group back towards the Leaky Caldron so that they could return to Hogwarts. They had things they needed to discuss in private and he still needed to look in at a few places so he would see Sirius and Remus off before he made his private rounds.

===

       The Dark Lord looked around Diagon Alley as he moved quickly. It was quiet. It was still full of people but they were quiet and nowhere could he see individuals. Everyone was clumped together as a group... which just made them so much easier to kill. Didn’t they realize that?

       Despite the fact that he was alone, he wasn’t attracting overt attention but there were one or two furtive glances towards him. He was used to being watched though and continued to stalk through the Alley.

       He wanted to have a brief look around before he returned to his stronghold. His servants reported back to him but he needed to assess what the sentiment of various creatures was. He knew what the humans thought of him, that was obvious in their actions but he wanted to know what the sentiment of some of the nonhumans was.

       Most dark creatures, the non:human ones weren’t organized. They didn’t need to be, as they simply acted as they would, but they would also come to his call, the chimeras, lethifolds and manticores. Or else they weren’t worth his time. The serpents were already his, their loyalty ensured by the power of Slytherin and Xatarass’ presence within him.

       The others though, the neutral non:humans... some like the unicorns he could ignore as creatures of light but Giants, Veela, the neutral groups he did need to treat with. They were smaller than the vampires and werewolves but they could still tip the balance. The vampires he would exterminate and the werewolves he would have to deal with through those of his followers who had been bitten. Goblins would require a plan to ensure he wiped them all out, but the Veela had a small presence here and he would look in on them. The personal touch was appreciated.

===

       Voldemort resisted the urge to gag. He’d forgotten how clinging and cloying the perfume was here. It was on the bodies of the workers but it hung in the air thickly covering the scent of all activities. He could almost feel it coating his tongue and throat and his eyes were reacting to the stuff. Xatarass wanted to reveal himself just so that his eyes felt better but he couldn’t, not yet. He wouldn’t get the alliance of the Veela’s from this, but it was a step forward in courting and therefore he couldn’t kill them, even if he wanted to. He consoled himself by thinking about some of his plans for the other races.

       “Think about it,” he said to the Madam, his red eyes softening welcomingly. “I can give you much more than the Ministry. Look at your children. Is this their choice or is this what they have been forced to do? You think those wizards care?”

       “I know they don’t care,” the Madam responded, stepping forward and pulling back the curtain of beads for her guest. She was more than aware that the Ministry didn’t care, at least not about her children, her species. They only cared when it was some witch : they didn’t cater towards those of other tastes, not here : who they took in although even they were more than happy to sample the wares. Men were all the same but she wasn’t sure serpents were better... although... were they worse?

       Death Eaters used their services but so did Aurors and it appeared they both could promise much. Delivery was something else. It always was.

       “I will pass your offer to our clan lea...”

       “Madam, no!” Ceil rushed forward from the waiting room, her pale blonde hair toned a soft blue in the light, but her grey eyes were wide and frantic.

       “Ceil!” The Madam said, worriedly trying to look back and forth between the waiting room and the corridor to determine what was so important that the child would lose her fear of the Dark Lord and risk death by barging forward into their path. Her own eyes widened as she saw the other guest that was waiting, and she realized as for the first time in years fear blossomed in the pit of her stomach that there was nothing she could do now. They had seen each other.

       There was a sibilant laugh from her side, but it wasn’t comforting and she shivered, gathering Ceil close as the Serpent Lord flowed forwards, radiating confidence to confront the other wizard. “Well, this is a surprise Old Man.” There was amusement colouring the steal like hatred in the Dark Lord’s voice.

       “I could say the same,” Dumbledore replied coldly. “I thought your tastes lay else where.” The ancient wizard’s voice showed his own distaste of the one he was speaking with.

       The Madam’s bosom heaved and she pushed Ceil towards the back. “Take cover,” she said kindly. “And warn the others.” She had to try to mediate even though she knew her inborn ability would work on neither but she would not her establishment turn into a battle ground.

       The Serpent sensed her movement first and his aura flared warningly. “I have no intention of fighting, just yet,” he said as much for her benefit as for the Hogwart’s Headmaster’s, ignoring the implied insult of the old wizards opening statement.

       Dumbledore’s blue eyes narrowed at that, but he didn’t go for his wand. “You have mellowed,” he said conversationally, shifting slightly.

       “Not that much, Old Man,” the Dark Lord hissed. “And while I would gladly take the opportunity to kill you, now is not yet the time.”

       “Why are you here?”

       “You already know that answer.”

       Red and blue eyes locked together and they stepped around each other carefully, measuring the others actions and tone. The Madam gulped from the doorway, hardly daring to breathe as her eyes flickered back and forth between the two. They both radiated power and a killing intent for the other that no wizard could hope to compete with. They were almost two sides of the same coin and she wondered what would tip the balance. The balance of the war and the balance of now...

       Which would blink first?

       “How did the ceremony go?”

       The Madam was surprised to see Dumbledore smile. With the tension of the situation the smile was too relaxed and too confident.

       “Well,” he said finally.

       The Serpent Lord noted the ease of reply but simply nodded at the response, unconcerned.

       “He’s not quite ready to face you, but he will be,” Dumbledore continued.

       Voldemort smiled, licking his lips causally. “I look forward to it,” he murmured. “Breaking him would not be enjoyable if he’s not ready.”

       “Be careful that he doesn’t break you,” Albus retorted. The response to the barb was surprising. The budding smile spread to the Dark Lord’s eyes and he chuckled, hissing softly.

       “There are times, Old Man... There are times when you are most amusing. It is so very interesting, but not enough to buy your life. Seek your alliances where you can and do not fail again in keeping my possessions safe and I might show mercy but for now I have too many things to do to linger and reminisce about the past.”

       With that the Dark Lord gathered himself to disapparate and the Madam breathed a sigh of relief, a sigh that choked as Dumbledore spoke again. “Tom?”

       There was a charged silence.

       “I thought I asked you not to call me that,” Red eyes narrowed assessing the ancient wizard’s intent before he shrugged. “What is it?”

       “He will defeat you, you know. He’s more powerful.”

       Serpent eyes flashed and the Dark Lord’s skin mottled for an instant. “Perhaps,” Voldemort said softly. “But it remains a question of if he will have the chance.”

       As the words hung in the air there was a light pop as the Dark Lord disapparated. Dumbledore’s hard blue eyes stared at the spot for a moment before he turned back towards the Veela Madam whose slight frame was quivering in the doorway, the beads ratting around her as they shivered in time with her motion.

       “I am sorry, Madam,” he said softly, casting a calming charm. He gestured for her to sit, summoning a tea set on the low table. After she had had a calming cup of tea his eyes turned serious again. “You know why I am here.”

       “Yes.”

       “Tell me.”

       “You know I can’t, but I will do the same for you as I have agreed for him. I will pass the information to our leaders. They will make the decision.”

       “That’s dangerous,” Dumbledore sighed.

       “No more than usual,” the Madam replied, flicking back her long hair.

       “All right,” the Hogwarts Headmaster agreed as he pulled several papers from his robes. “This is what we are offering...”

 

 


	14. Studies Over Summer

Weapon  
Chapter 14 Studies Over Summer

===

       Dumbledore looked around his office. He was pleased with the night’s events but now they had to build on them so that they could continue moving forwards. Sirius, Remus, Minerva and Snape were present and now they would lay out the summer training program for Harry. Harry himself was napping in the quarters provided for him and even though that was a little unusual, Fawkes had happily reported that everything seemed okay. He was still adjusting though and so needed to sleep.

       He had asked the phoenix if Harry’s power indicated that he would be able to complete an animagus transformation however the bird hadn’t replied but there was a self-satisfied gleam in fire eyes and the Headmaster had been reassured by that. Even he’d been able to feel the change in Harry since the moment he had appeared from Ollivander’s corridor but the specifics of such changes were best left to the phoenix’s determination.

       So in all likelihood the first thing they had to do was establish exactly what had changed. Once that was done, then they could begin to train Harry...

       Train...

       Heh.

       The word was a misnomer and Dumbledore shook his head as he looked down at the preliminary report from Marchbanks. It contained Harry’s unconfirmed OWL and NEWT results. Unconfirmed because for such a grade to be issued it had to be verified by other authorities and in the case of one Harry Potter, they wanted to be discrete. _The Prophet_ would have a field day if they found out now, and while the Order would eventually reveal Harry’s unprecedented results, they would reveal it at a time that suited them.

       Even so, they would still call these summer exercises ‘training’ as it was, in a way. Harry knew the charms but he would need to learn to control the strength of his abilities and would need to learn the ways of combat. Severus had suggested physical training for the boy and Dumbledore had agreed. They would need to teach him some weapons as well as the various signals used by the Order and Aurors in battle. They would need to teach him some weapons as well as the various signals used by the Order and Aurors in battle, knowing the magic was not enough. They would still start with animagus training though before moving on to that. And somewhere along the line they had to work in... He sighed, Merlin’s beard how he loathed calling this ‘training,’ but at least the ...training... was informative about Harry’s hereditary abilities.

       The shadows seemed to accompany their young master everywhere, a fact for which Dumbledore was pleased about, but they did need to begin to separate fact from fiction. The accounts of the few times Gryffindor had used his birthright were sketchy, even those written by the other founders and so they had to know more. Already they had learnt a lot about the shadows, just by observing Harry. No one had known the shadows could talk, or that they could act without their Masters permission unless in his defence yet they had. The Order had to know more, had to know the limits of their abilities as well as learn how autonomous they were and how extensive was Harry’s control. They could not afford an ability or a weapon which was unstable or unreliable.

       He had every confidence in Harry though. Already the youngest member of the Order had proven his worth and his adaptability and in reality he knew they had no choice, they could fight Tom but only Harry could win. Tom had a fixation on the young Gryffindor and would continue to come at him until one or the other was dead. It was almost a compulsion but it was one they could exploit.

       “I still insist he gets Potion training!” The angry statement broke through his thoughts; Severus’ voice, fighting with Sirius, no surprise there. “That’s the one area your precious Godchild is deficient in.”

       The canine animagus looked amused and picked up Marchbank’s report, leafing through the pages before he answered Snape. “An Exceeds Expectations result on a NEWT level paper...” he murmured, deliberately keeping his tone mild, “Most wizards would kill to have a deficiency like that.”

       “The point is he could do better.”

       “Probably not with you teaching him though,” Remus said quietly.

       “Are you saying I’m not qualified?”

       “I’m saying that Harry doesn’t like you. He probably could do better since it seems that all other knowledge from the Dark Lord transferred and by your own admission Severus, the Dark Lord can rival you in Potions when he desires but Harry is unlikely to desire to do better with you as a teacher.”

       “Who else will teach him then?”

       “Is it really that essential to raise an Exceeds Expectations to an Outstanding. For anyone else we wouldn’t even be concerned. If we do Potions training though, then we are obligated to train Mr. Potter in Herbology as well to raise that Exceeds Expectations.”

       “What practical purpose does that serve?” Snape sneered.

       “What practical purpose does Potions serve?” The question was returned.

       “Like it or not, we are training him for a battle and in battle potions come in pre-packaged vials, ready for use,” Remus said reasonably, trying to avert further argument. “Practical Potion Use could perhaps be a topic of training but in the brewing of Potions, Harry is sufficiently skilled for our purposes.”

       “Both Potions and Herbology were marked down due to the fact that Harry completed OWL level papers for them but his practical results in both were up to NEWT level,” Dumbledore broke in mildly. “Severus, in as much as it pleases me that you would like to teach young Harry further, Remus is correct, for the purposes of the Order and the Ministry Harry’s potion making abilities are more than sufficient, however should he ever show a desire to develop them more, he will of course be referred to you for further lessons should you still be willing. Harry does not need further potion classes, or Herbology classes and I apologize if you thought that was why I had asked you to stay over summer.

       “Harry needs weapons training, something, which in addition to your formidable potion making abilities, you are more than qualified to teach.”

       “Weapons?” Snape asked incredulously. He couldn’t be hearing correctly.

       Dumbledore looked mildly amused. “Yes, weapon training,” he confirmed, his eyes twinkling.

       The Potion Master snorted. “You’re afraid I’ll poison your precious Potter in Potions but you are prepared to let me near him with something sharp?” He questioned. Logic wasn’t Sirius’ strong point, true but he was usually a little more consistent.

       The canine animagus simply smiled. “Yes, I will for the simple fact that during his duel in his DADA OWL... or is that NEWT, he used Gryffindor’s sword quite proficiently and so he needs that training.”

       Severus sobered. Potter had... He knew Potter had inherited much of the Serpent Lord’s knowledge but if Potter had his fighting prowess as well... “So you are telling me he fights like the Dark Lord?”

       “Possibly,” Remus shrugged, unconcerned.

       His lips curled in distaste. It wasn’t that the Serpent Lord couldn’t fight. Severus was more than aware of that having sparred with him a few times many, many years ago, it was just that the style was so... basic. It was brutally effective but crude, lacking any degree of elegance or refinement. It was a style that showed no respect for the art and simply went straight for the throat. It was perfect in combat but lacking in all other aspects. It was ugly and he had no desire to hone anyone’s ability with it : child of the unrefined Potter’s or not, that style was something that didn’t need perpetuating.  

       “Look upon it as an opportunity to instil the proper wizarding traditions into that style,” Dumbledore said mildly.

       Snape was still not impressed or amused and he didn’t miss the dog rolling his eyes but... he needed this. He needed a reason to get close to Potter to report back to the Dark Lord. If it wasn’t going to be Potions, it had to be something. “All right,” he agreed. He might protest but he had no choice.

       :You would if you joined us.:

       The Potion Master gritted his teeth against the voice. He wasn’t going to listen to it, plain and simple. He wasn’t going to listen because he would find his own way through the mess he had created. It was what a Snape did. They did not rely on others. They most certainly did not rely on shapeless, formless voices... even if that voice was powerful.

       “I’ll do it,” he said, “but I take no responsibility for any bruises or lack of ability on his part. The path of the sword is something you are either suited for or not.”

       Dumbledore nodded in that affable way that he does, blue eyes twinkling, showing absolutely no concern for life or limb. It was that manner that had made many underestimate him, seeing a doddery old fool instead of the cold and cunning leader of the Order. Sirius just rolled his eyes again. It was galling but Snape was a better swordsman than him; they had both learned the art, as did most of those that descended from old wizarding lines. Sirius didn’t consider the fact that Snivelus was better at potions and sword work a mark of being a better wizard. He was better at living, and that was the final scorecard that mattered. Remus was unconcerned. Snape had said that he would teach Harry, and so he would. The Potion Master was many things but he was a man of his word in things such as this. He had no choice but to be. Besides, Harry would be well protected on any battlefield. It was unlikely that such training would be called for. At least, the werewolf hoped that would be the case. Even so, he had his own concerns.

       “Now that Harry has a Weapons Master,” Dumbledore said, we need to decide on the rest of his summer teachers. “Minerva has already volunteered to remain to teach him advanced transfiguration but Remus, I was wondering if you could help as well? Your knowledge and resilience would prove useful in training.”

       “Resilience?” the werewolf questioned. “What a nice way to put it.”

       “Remus?” Dumbledore enquired, his eyes becoming serious at the almost resentful tone in his Professor’s voice.

       Sirius just watched. He already knew what was wrong and had tried comforting his old friend as much as possible but there was only so much he could do.

       “I’ll do it Headmaster,” Lupin said. “Someone has to make sure Harry is safe from those that bite,” he added, revealing the core of his concern.

       “Is there a problem?”

       “Nothing more than already has been stated,” Remus returned. “I do not and never will trust vampires and I still don’t like the fact that you have allied us with them.”

       “There is no choice.”

       Most would have expected Dumbledore’s voice to be cold on this matter, his tone one that brooked no disobedience and was insulted that the werewolf could question his judgment. It wasn’t though. Instead it was apologetic and soft, tired. It was at odds with the serious look in his eyes.

       “You think that’s going to matter to the werewolves as a whole? We cannot and will not work with Vampires. We have always maintained that and we will always maintain that. I told you, this will not go over well.”

       “Remus the Ministry is already repealing those anti-werewolf laws but you know as well as I do it is the community as a whole that has to learn.”

       “I know,” Lupin said. “I’m just afraid of what you are going to learn,” he added.

       “What has Tom offered?” Dumbledore asked sharply.

       “Nothing, the offer hasn’t come yet beyond the normal enticements but with the choice between the path most wizards expect us to take, and working with the blood suckers, a lot of were wolves will choose to follow him, even knowing that he’ll probably renege on the bargain.”

       “They can’t expect him to win?”

       “They’re not sure what to think. Not everyone buys the Ministry line that he was driven back by the Aurors, especially when you’re used to distrusting the Ministry in the first place. He’s not a sure thing but he’s not a long shot either,” Remus said, trying to keep his anger out of his tone.

       “This is troubling.”

       “More than you know. There’s a third force as well.”

       “What?” Snape questioned.

       “Who were the two who helped You-Know-Who in the Atrium?” Remus asked.

       “We don’t know. No one knows. They could be his, but they could be someone else. There is a lot of interest there.”

       “They were shadow forces,” Dumbledore said, “And they will soon stand with the Ministry through Harry.”

       “Maybe,” the werewolf said. “If they are shadow forces, then well and good but are the shadows one whole, or are there factions?”

       :That’s interesting,: the shadows murmured to Sirius. :We were wondering how he was going to bring up that there was a third offer. Very interesting... and this way Snape gets to tell Voldemort. Very clever.:

       :It doesn’t change anything though.:

       :No, but it is very interesting.:

       Sirius resisted the urge to place his hand on Remus’ forearm in comfort but he tried to let his old friend know he was there for him, and he had reassured him numerous times over the past few days.

       “The shadows will fall into line,” Dumbledore said firmly but was tactful enough to avoid the statement that he expected the werewolves to follow suit.

       “All I said is that I’m just afraid what the world will learn. I will do my best but... with the choices that have come to light; I don’t know where the werewolves will turn.”

       The Headmaster nodded. It seemed he would have to speak with the Ministry about sweetening the deal with the werewolves. They were owed it but making the Ministry see that could be difficult and he didn’t like setting the precedent. In the end, all they could really offer was long term acceptance for the future but how well the current generations of werewolves valued that was problematic. They were like most humans after all in that they saw their pain and valued that almost above all else. The pain of future werewolves was something they cared about but only in the abstract. It was difficult to care for such things when you were starving each night and had to scurry through the fringes of wizarding society.

       “I will do my best,” Dumbledore returned the agreement before looking back towards Sirius and Snape. The two of them had been remarkably silent. Sirius was calm but then he’d probably already discussed things in depth with Remus and had known about the possibility of a third force, no matter what it was. Snape though... his face was studiously blank but Albus was used to reading it. He was intensely interested and he was gauging how much such information would help or hinder his cause with the Dark Lord. After so long, Snape still judged every bit of information but that was the reason he had been able to survive so long as a spy. He only told Voldemort enough to guarantee his position but never enough that the Dark Lord would desire to kill him. It was a fine balance but he played it well, he played it very well.

       But the Headmaster wondered how much longer Snape could continue to play. When Tom resumed the battle he was not likely to allow any weakness or any questions. Absolute obedience is what he would demand and from those that survived, that is what he would get.

       This had been an educational meeting but there were still one or two things left to discuss. “As members of the Order, how much contact with the Ministry do you think we should allow Harry to have?”

       Sirius snorted. “I’d love to be able to say none but that’s not going to be possible, but minimal. They can’t come to rely on him, any more than we should and while he has come of age he is still young. If they want to speak with him, they can come here. Besides, if Harry remains here, then Hogwarts will become a focal point in the battle. It’s going to be one anyway, this just ensures that we know where the Dark Lord will attack and rather than having him attack everywhere searching for Harry, isn’t it better to have one place where you know he will concentrate his attention. Apart from leaving other places in relative peace it means _we_ can concentrate our defences.”

       Dumbledore nodded and Remus gave a quick jerk of his head to indicate his acceptance of the reasoning. Snape looked thoughtful for a few moments. “With the boys OWL results, they are going to want him for more things. They’re not going to like that.”

       “They don’t have to like it,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

       “They’re going to want more and they will run the argument that having Harry remain here just endangers the rest of the students. I can already see the letters from concerned parents flooding the Minister’s Office that their darlings are being put in danger.”

       “Their darlings are in danger everywhere. By keeping Harry here we can account for that and increase the defences.”

       “I know that!” Snape returned. “The Ministry’s not going to buy it though. Not unless there is public support for the move.”

       Albus nodded. That was true. They could do it and ignore public sentiment, but that would just weaken morale and they needed all the morale they could get. It looked like Elliot would be busy highlighting the fact that Harry was still technically a child and would do better as normal environment as possible. If they pitched it so that the parents would think that by sending their children to Hogwarts they were helping Harry then that could be useful. Harry would still fight; he’d just do most of it here. And Sirius was correct on that. If Harry was here, Tom would come as well. The nature of his obsession would not allow anything else.

       Dumbledore cleared his throat, bringing everyone’s attention to himself. “The Order will make it clear to the Ministry that Harry’s base of operations is to remain at Hogwarts, however, to counter that, and because they will no doubt insist and we would be forced to, we will allow them to plan to use Harry in specific battles, where the Order is consulted and fully involved in. This will allow them the illusion that they may call upon him at will, while giving us control of the circumstances, in as much control as can be achieved in something like this.”

       Sirius’ black eyes flashed dangerously, something darker than pitch lurking behind them as he considered the Headmasters words. The plan was logical but it still allowed for Harry to be involved in open combat and that was something he wasn’t easily going to allow. Did they not understand how important Harry was, how young he was, and how bad this was going to be..?

       For them...

       The shadows laughed in his ear at the last. Sirius didn’t really feel anything but a residual fear at the thought of Harry in combat because he knew his Godson’s servants would keep him safe, no matter what happened but to maintain his position that’s what he would show. Maybe this was his way of trying to warn them, even though he could say nothing... but the canine animagus knew they wouldn’t listen to him and he knew they were already doomed. What happened now, was reflex.

       “That still puts Harry into a direct, frontline combat position,” he ground out through clenched teeth. This time it was Remus who tried to comfort him. The werewolf understood and shared his sentiments and felt the fear Sirius knew he would have been feeling if not for the shadows’ intervention.

       “I know,” Dumbledore said tolerantly. “But it is better for us to control that combat rather than having Tom force it upon us, because I sense, one way or another he is going to force young Harry into combat. In skill and power they might be equal, but in experience they are not. Tom knows that and after having Harry snatched from him so many times, he will take advantage of anything.”

       “He won’t just continue to court him?”

       “No. If the opportunity arises, yes, there will be further courtship but eventually courtship will be over or Tom will get bored or desperate and he will strike then, no matter how much he might wish dominion, his sense of self-preservation will be stronger. We want Harry to strike before the courtship is over,” Dumbledore said matter of factly. “Because Tom will still be sure of his power then and that may be the only time he is vulnerable. Harry can defeat Tom, I have no doubt of that but there will be two ways of doing it, a long drawn out conflict where neither side wins, or a battle where we are ready before he is, one where we strike first. That is why, despite the risk, Sirius, I am... reluctantly willing to have Harry in combat. He will be our first strike and with the right backing from the Order and the Ministry, that strike will be enough.”

       “You can’t possibly think it will be over in one battle?” Snape asked, not quite holding back a sneer.

       “It won’t be,” the Headmaster agreed. “But if we strike now, one year will be enough.” He added, his blue eyes twinkling not with happiness but with the anticipation of the end.

===

       Ollivander waved away his last set of customers, turning back towards the bench. He had been unusually busy lately, at a time when he wanted nothing more than to sit and ponder several things that had felt wrong. He had had no opportunity for quiet inflection and usually he wouldn’t have minded but there was something grating now and the smug satisfaction of the shadow wasn’t helping. It was almost as if it knew more than he did and he didn’t like that feeling. It shouldn’t matter! He was neutral. What he knew, he knew, what he didn’t know, he didn’t know but he would act to help neither...

       But he felt that this time, it did matter.

       That feather.

       The sign on the door flipped itself and the lock slide home with a click and the neutral tenshi turned inwards, puttering back into the gloom. It was time to check if it truly was what he thought it was.

       The shadow glided after him. No one had noticed it today but somehow its presence had been stronger. It was watching more avidly and it seemed far more active than it had been before.

       He paused on the threshold to his work room to look at the feather. It lay on a cushion in the middle of the bench and despite or maybe because of the gathering gloom it seemed to glow softly. Its sheen was beautiful, almost pearl like in its iridescence and each barb fitted together with the others making it seem perfect. It was a feather from the centre of the wing, a primary but not one of the shaped tips. It had power. He could feel that but he had to confirm if it was the feather of a tenshi.

       If it was, it would be perfect for the wood. Soft and gentle to counter the oaks brittleness. It would absorb energy to protect the oak without compromising the overall power flows because it could still transfer enough energy. Combined with dragon blood, which would provide some stabilisation and buffering between the feather and wood, it would become a near perfect wand for a fairly powerful wizard. The inherent properties of the oak and dragon blood meant that the wizard would never be of the class of Dumbledore, Voldemort or Potter but they would be formidable. If he matched the feather with a different sheath, that would be a different matter... but this all rested on the assumption that it was a tenshi’s feather.

       A half thought filled the room with illumination as he stepped forward and gently picked up the feather to pluck at the fluffy, almost down like barbs near the base of the shaft. The silver eyed man gently laid the feather down again as he sniffed at the white material caught between his fingertips.

       It smelt salty but it was a dry salt almost burnt. He knew that smell though. The Dark Lord Voldemort and he sniffed again, trying to find the underlying scent of the being who had shed this feather. There was a sweet smell, almost like toffee but with a power tang that was masked by the scent of snake and Ollivander sighed. He wasn’t going to be able to tell that way. The Dark Lord’s scent on it was too pervasive and was covering the owners scent. It was there though, sweet with a bite but it was not enough for him to tell who. There were other tests to run.

       Carefully he dropped the fluff like feather pieces into a lead bowl that had been lined with alchemic gold. They glistened there and he could almost see the ripple that passed through the magic of the gold at the power even the small pieces contained. He’d been expecting it but hoping against it.

       The feather was definitely a tenshi feather, from a pureblood, a pureblood that was a pure wing and was by definition very powerful.

       All of which was unsettling... Who was helping the Dark Lord? Because even a feather could help... Or was it something he had found, some antique of an ancient clan given to him as a token of power because they didn’t know what it was? If that was the case there was nothing to worry about. By itself it was just a feather, no different say from the feather of a phoenix. Only the species different but if it had been given or taken from the tenshi in question by the Dark Lord himself, then he knew too much and there was something else wrong.

       Wait... had it been given not to the Dark Lord but to one of the basilisks? Is that why Xatarass had been so keen to reaffirm his neutrality... what had the serpent said...

       ‘The Line of Ximir respects your neutrality, we hope that you will continue to respect our choices.’

       Had he been referring to the feather..? or to some other alliance the Serpents had which had given them the feather? Basilisks were magical beings, but the nature of their magic was confined much like it was in most magical creatures. Wizards were watched because they could manipulate magic. Basilisks and others weren’t because they could only manipulate magic along predetermined pathways, enhancing their venom, the deadly gaze of their eyes. Predetermined, predictable, known. But had they somehow sought an alliance in their quest to destroy the phoenix Fawkes..?

       Basilisks could kill a phoenix but true to its nature it would simply burst into flame and be reborn as a chick. The great serpents could not destroy a phoenix, no matter how much they wanted... That’s why he had assumed they maintained their alliance with the Dark Lord... in order that one day someone would destroy the phoenix they hated so much. But what if they maintained their alliance because they sought the aide of a higher magical being..?

       That could get complicated... They had the time though, and the desire and very few thought of them as anything but the Dark Lords pets. No one knew the true extent of the Basilisks power, range and ambition. No one thought they would act independently. But this was supposition and only true if the feather was Xatarass’ possession.

       Questions...

       He wasn’t meant to have so many questions. He was meant to have answers. He was meant to watch to see the answers but it seemed the players had become better at hiding them. He had to watch harder and he had to know since he couldn’t do his job if he didn’t know. 

       He looked down at the pieces still glittering in the bowl and the feather still settled on the cushion. He had no choice. At the moment, all he could do was make the wand and deliver it... Then he would watch as he had never watched before. But he would also check with the council. Maybe they thought they could hide things from him again. He would have to remind them what had happened last time that had happened if that was the case.

       Ollivander passed his hand over the bowl and a thin film appeared over it; a preservative, one that would maintain the pieces of the feather for later study. He then turned towards his other bench, where the oak was still gently clasped in a vice and a small jar was beside it, seven layers of red toned liquid visible within it.

       :Don’t start,: the shadow whispered from the corner. :You have a guest.:

       “A guest?”

       “A guest,” an unfamiliar voice answered his question and the wand maker turned to see something which was most unexpected.

       “So it would seem,” Ollivander said, recovering slightly. “I presume you re-locked the shop when you let yourself in?”

       “Of course, I do not wish to be disturbed.”

       The wand maker chuckled. “That does seem to be the trend lately. So... what can I do for you?”

       Blue eyes looked around the room sharply, noting the positions of the shadows. “A bit of this, a bit of that,” came the almost tired answer. “I see they are here as well.”

       “They are everywhere, and it is easier to keep them where I can see them.”

       “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”

       “I don’t have enemies.”

       “Ah... yes I should have remembered. I remember you teaching me that a long time ago, you have only clients and acquaintances.”

       “At least you have remembered. So which bit did you want?”

       “Information.”

       “A very dangerous commodity.”

       “Darn it, Ollivander!” the wand makers guest hissed with surprising venom. “This is not the time for games.”

       Ollivander looked down for a moment before he met his guests eyes squarely. “No, the time has long passed.”

       “Then tell me,” Xeoaph almost begged.

       The wand maker looked around, noticing how the shadows seemed almost eager. He had assured Xatarass of his neutrality and that was something he had no intention of breaking it. Even if they weren’t here he wouldn’t break it, there was still so much he did not understand and had to learn, so many questions he had to answer yet before he could act, before he could even decide if he should act.

       “What do you want to know?” He settled for the innocuous question.

       “Everything,” the vampire replied, pulling over a stool and settling himself on to it. “But I know you cannot tell me that.”

       Ollivander started at the tired voice, looking sharply at the vampire, reassessing what he saw. Xeoaph was tired but it was more than that.  He wasn’t energy depleted but looked instead like one haunted, one who had been chasing or dodging shadows for too long, one who didn’t know where to go or what to do. It was not a state one saw a vampire in, ever.

       “My children are afraid,” the vampire said. “We’ve taken the path with the Ministry because that is the only path we can take. I lead them. They do not know my doubts. He threatens us. Should he be the one, he will take it all and I never thought I’d see the day when taking it all included taking us. It would not be easy, and it would not be over night but it would happen. If they back him,” Xeoaph’s eyes flickered towards the watching shadow, “if they bow to him... then I do not know,” he ended with a sigh.

       “Ah,” Ollivander said slowly. “You have realised that Vampires are not the only dark.”

       “We are the dark,” Xeoaph said, with a show of force. “But just as the light from a phoenix may be corrupted, so too may we be displaced. Ironic, we are the ultimate dark but that doesn’t mean our position is secure.”

       Ollivander sighed as the shadow seemed to laugh. The conflicting beliefs of others was something that both amazed, amused and sometimes confused him. They were something he paid particular attention to though because in belief lay the reason for action. The vampire’s belief that they were the true dark was something that he knew about and he’d been hoping they’d grow out of it, yet it seemed they were too young for that and that may be their downfall. Yet... while Xeoaph was not prepared to give up his truth that the vampires were pure dark, he was showing the beginnings of maturity in his ability to at least reason out that they could be challenged. At least he knew that even if you were the ultimate of something, that did not guarantee everything. That was something true power knew, you did have to work at victory.

       “He is not the Shadow Lord,” Ollivander said softly. “He is not the master nor is he the slave.”

       Xeoaph closed his eyes, nodding slightly. “Yet the one’s who served?”

       “They are of the shadows,” the silver eyed wand maker confirmed.

       “The shadows or their lord?”

       “They are of the shadows,” he repeated.

       “With such power I did not think it possible for them to be anything else,” the vampire said quietly. “But confirmation is always appreciated.”

       “You have two choices,” Ollivander said, in much the same way as he had explained to Narcissa. “You can fight them,” he laid out the first option. “Given their current strength against your children’s relative power, I would think you would need to contact more of the elders to stand with you, as you already know, they will not go down without a fight.”

       The vampire nodded. Apparently this was something he knew. “Hence my alliance with the Ministry. I am trying to contact the elders but they are... deliberately I think, making themselves unreachable.”

       “You don’t seem concerned that they are here?” Ollivander questioned. He had expected the vampire to cast some spell or demand they move somewhere private.

       Xeoaph smiled. “This is nothing they do not already know,” he said. “And my second choice?”

       The wand maker nodded slowly. “Given you have already raised your hand, I do not know if this is an option for you, it may be though it will depend on who you wish to fight. You can walk away. Dissolve your alliance, do nothing more and walk away. Leave things as they are. The shadows I think would accept that, I do not know if Voldemort would.”

       Xeoaph sighed. “No, that is not an option. This Dark Lord must fall and now that you have confirmed for me, exactly what he said, I cannot look back. I know the Shadow Lord but I do not know if he has the strength to be what is necessary. I will not fail.

       Ollivander raised one eyebrow at the declaration before he spoke again. “I offer one more piece of … advice,” he said.

       “Go on,” the vampire said.

       “They,” he indicated towards the shadow. “They do not care,” he said with as much force as he could muster wondering exactly what game the shadows had been playing. “So long as you do not stand in their way, they do not care. That is the one truth that I know absolutely about them,” Ollivander said. “It is Voldemort who will care about you with your alliance, and thus, you do have the second option because they will not care and where they will not exert themselves, thus will the Serpent Lord have to face you himself, and in that battle, therein lies another possibility, one you abandon so long as you are here.”

       “What of the Shadow Lord then?”

       “If you know him, then you already know the path he will follow,” the wand maker said casually. Well, they’d know if anyone thought to ask.

       “I do know him but I am not certain if he has the will to do what is necessary. A child he is, and a child he will be.”

       “He is of age.”

       Xeoaph laughed. “Only wizards could consider 16 to be of age! Even most Muggle countries do not consider one to be of age for another two years or even another five! He is a child, he is soft and uneducated but I guess I will have no choice but to see to it that he develops the will to do the what is necessary because I will not see my children bow to anyone, serpent, shadow or light. First though the serpent needs to fall. Then will the shadows finally fall into line because they will have no choice at their masters call.”

       Ollivander nodded, seeing now that he’d made an incorrect assumption. The vampire didn’t fear the shadows, he feared the Dark Lord. To him the shadows were nothing more than servants, useful, powerful but ones that would be called to heel by the Light’s warrior. It was only the independent shadows, those that served the Dark Lord that the vampire was concerned about and he thought those could be circumvented easily enough. “They are bound to obey their master.”

       “Then that will be enough,” Xeoaph said, seeming much more relaxed.

       “So, I ask again, what can I do for you?”

       “Your confirmation is enough. That they still have a master, that they still have to obey that master. There are many questions about their master, many doubts, but there are things on which he shall not have a choice and his loyalty to the light is one. I will see to that and have these called to heel. I thank you.”

       “Do not thank me for anything that you already knew. The path has not yet been walked and paths may always diverge.”

       Xeoaph smiled. “Not when they are guided.”

       Ollivander chuckled, along with the shadows laughter and for a moment the vampire looked concerned before the wand maker looked up solemnly, waving his hand at the shadow who complied and hastily but ostentatiously exited the room, no doubt to take up position on the door lintel on the other side, out of sight yet not out of hearing. “They know if they don’t leave on the occasions I want them to I’ll set up enough light that they can’t be here ever,” Ollivander said by way of explanation before he turned serious.

       “Paths that are guided may still diverge. You must guide them and watch them but not too heavily or they may diverge merely to escape. It requires work and effort but that is something you are not afraid of. Voldemort is more than the others, you are correct in your deductions there but he is not the Lord of Shadows.”

       “That will be enough,” Xeoaph said with renewed confidence.

       “Voldemort you can work around, do not cross them though. As you believe the Dark Lord is mortal, they though, remember forever and I believe one of the first rules your master taught you was never to anger another immortal. I would remind you of that now. There are more sides in this than you know who will yet have a say in the outcome.”

       “You?”

       “No,” Ollivander said with more certainty than he felt, his mind going back to the feather he had been given. “There is no need for me to break neutrality. Vampires do not need my skills, I admit, unless they are like you, who seeks to know both magics but you do occasionally need my advice and my memory.”

       Xeoaph smiled. “We will not expect you to break your neutrality, nor will we seek to interfere with your work,” he said formally. “We respect your neutrality, we hope that you will respect our choices.”

       The wand maker started visibly.

       “What is it?” the vampire elder asked, suddenly concerned and certainly showing more care than he would to any other save his kind.

       “Why that phrase?”

       “It seemed appropriate.”

       “Others have said the same to me.”

       “Then others are as wise as I.”

       Ollivander chuckled, the sound ending in a sharp intake of breath. “You may not think that, but I thank you for the sentiment, so long as your choices to not impinge upon me, I have no reason to interfere with you. Just remember what I have said. They are not enemies you wish to make, and while it may seem that you have, that is something you can chose to fix.”

       “That is always the way,” Xeoaph said rising. “Choice, yet sometimes there is none,” he added as he stepped towards the door with a slight bow towards the wand maker. “I thank you for your advice, but there are choices now that cannot be undone and are not choices at all.” He disappeared and a few moments later Ollivander heard the tinkle of his bell followed by the quiet click of the lock as the Vampire relocked his door.

       As the shadow returned to the room, Ollivander looked back towards the feather. “There is always a choice,” he murmured, wondering now if there really was.

===

       Dumbledore looked over at his desk, resisting the urge to disappear his paperwork. While most routine paperwork wrote and distributed itself, like the invitations to attend Hogwarts other paperwork such as the training of members of order of the Phoenix or overseeing the suggested training regime of Aurors... that did not do itself. Plus there were various letters and agreements he had to oversee as well as ensuing that the Ministry did not do something stupid... As they almost had... many times.

       The old wizard sighed, feeling his age, he couldn’t prove that it was Death Eater work but he suspected that many of the humanocentric bills that were cunningly being put to the Ministry were the work of Death Eaters, either to create the world they wanted or to drive the dark non-human forces to Voldemort. It was rather frustrati9ng and would be solved if he took the offered position as Minister... but taking such a position would preclude him running The Order and that was more important.

       It was inferred often that he liked to operate from the shadows... not so with Fawkes as a partner, he just preferred to work where he could do the most good and that meant working with the children to ensure, in as much as was possible that they did not repeat the mistakes of the past. That’s why he stayed here and that’s why he continued to work with the Order of the Phoenix to ensure that someone at least remembered and someone could try to redeem the past. And he stayed here because everyone knew Hogwarts and saw it as a place to rally to. Unfortunately though that also meant a lot of people knew where he was and thus where to send owls to b other him, or they thought as the ‘mere’ headmaster he had more time to deal with their day to day pettiness.. Maybe he should take that job...

       With an irritable flip of his wand, something that would never be seen in public he sorted paperwork into several piles. He might be one o the most powerful wizards of his generation but he could still use logic to sort his mail. Thankfully those deemed urgent weren’t a distressingly large pile. Those deemed reports... were though... as was correspondence meant to annoy.

       Though sitting on top of one of the piles was a short missive from Sirius. The man had been understandably upset and had made a few less than subtle threats if anything happened to Harry but he’d accepted his mission from the Order and had left after spending a day or so with his godson. He was currently travelling north and would contact as many non-human magical creatures as he could. As an ambassador for the Order of the Phoenix there was no one better suited to the role. His incarceration made him known, and despite the fact that he was sometimes rash, the Black name was respected still and known in some of the non-human communities. He was the only one they could send. Of course for some of the non-humans they would have to be more specific. the werewolves for example, they would have to rely on Remus and the Giants wouldn’t come no matter how persuasive Sirius could be. He would either have to send Hagrid or go himself for some of them.

       Another reason not to take the position of minister. He had too much work that required his personal touch that simply could not be done if he was the Minister of Magic. He’d promised Sirius that before Harry saw any real combat he’d be an Auror, or inducted as one and that as much as possible they would hold off until Sirius could be there. that last though... that was going to be problematic but Albus know the canine animagus would hurry because of that.

       The headmaster sat down, steepling his fingers. There was another reason for sending Sirius. The man had spent the last years enclosed. Being in the castle, being in one place, while he had controlled it well had been grating on him. he still had some deep scars and the freedom of this mission would help him heal, even though his help with dealing with the werewolves would be greatly missed.

       Remus had been surprisingly adamant about the vampires and everything Xeoaph had told him seemed to back up the werewolf. It was almost laughable that the two sides hated each other yet they agreed on that. The order would need them both though so he had to find some way of making them work together... or at least some way of separating them so that they could be on the same side. Perhaps that would work. Absolutely no joint missions for werewolves and vampires but they could both be servants of the light... it was something that bore thinking about. Of course the only real way to guarantee the werewolves would be to completely change the Ministries rules on them and while Dumbledore agreed they were rather unjust he could not see a way of getting them changed, not even if he WAS the minister.

       He sighed, shaking his head as he considered but was interrupted by one of the paintings.

       “Albus...” The picture was breathless and as he glanced up he could see that their complexion was light. They were in shock.

       “You’d... you’d better get to the transfiguration class room... Now.” The words were whispered but carried amazing strength... The painting held up their hand, forestalling further questions. “Nothing is wrong...” Edrion Astruia said, “Just you need to be there.” With an almost audible flop Edrion sat back in their painted chair, picking up a large glass of whiskey and downing it in one gulp.

       “What’s happened?”

       “he did it,” Edrion replied, pouring himself another glass. Edrion had been the principle before he was a student but had been well respected and the other paintings were all looking at him expectantly. it was as if they Knew something was going on and were all present.

       “Who did?”

       “He did. He transformed.”

       “But nothing happened with the seeing potion,” Dumbledore objected. How did he know what to transform into..?

       Edrion laughed. “That wouldn’t have been a problem. Just go, you will understand when you see it.”

       Dumbledore picked up his wand as Edrion downed another glass then took a swig from the still almost full bottle. “you once said that the most interesting students where those who surprised you,” the painting said as the gargoyle rolled back. “There is such a thing as too much surprise though,” was Edrion’s parting words as Dumbledore descended the stairs hastily.

===

       McGonagall looked over at her student. He was slightly restive today which was odd given the usual attentiveness he had been giving her and his other teachers over the summer. They’d quickly worked out a routine for young Harry. An intensive routine but one that would have him read as soon as possible.

       She didn’t really like that bit, even if she understood. This training would make him a better wizard but it was a better combat wizard.

       She stifled a sigh as she turned her attention back to her student. Perhaps they were both restive today or perhaps she should have him do his combat training in the morning so that he would be settled in the afternoon or at least be physically tired and less fidgety. Though looking at the clear skies and bright sunshine she couldn’t blame him today.

       “Profession?” Harry’s voice was soft as he looked up from his parchment.

       “Yes, Mr Potter?” Despite this being a class of one she maintained the correct protocols.

       “Could we do the animagus studies earlier today?”

       Minerva blinked in genuine surprise.

       Harry was remarkably adept with all of his studies, something they had understood once Dumbledore had told them about the Dark Lords gift but this was one thing he’d been... shying away from. He wasn’t afraid, she could tell that, it was just reluctance on his part. He had been dutifully studying and performing her tests but just under the surface there had been a reluctance, something subtle and formless. Rather than be disappointed at his reticence she had been happy. the day he mastered the animagus transformation would be a big step closer to having to pronounce him fit for combat. Not something she was looking forward to.

       “Of course Mr Potter,” she replied immediately, rescheduling their lesson mentally. “Which part would you like to try first?”

       The animagus section of the lesson was broken into several parts - the spell, the actual transformation, transforming back and of course what to do while in animagus form. the last two sections had by force been merely theoretically and she honestly wasn’t certain if there was a practical combat use for most animagi... Unless of course he transformed into something predatory.

       And therein lay another small hiccup in his training.

       They’d requested a seeing potion from Severus and Harry had taken it but to the surprise and some alarm nothing had happened. Sirius had been one of the few who had just shrugged and then relayed a story about James. “Just runs in the family,” is all he’d commented before dismissing the matter. Others had not been so blaise and had questions the need for animagus training. Thankfully both Harry and Dumbledore had backed her up, both agreeing that the training had more applications than just the transfiguration of self.

       Which of course it did.

       Transfiguration was a powerful combat technique and Mr Potter would need it and every other technique he was learning this summer if he wanted to survive. Practice too but he was getting that in the combat training in the afternoons. The only problem was he didn’t need all this training if he wanted to live.

       And that’s where the dilemma lay.

       He should be living, not merely surviving, not fighting those enemies breed by the previous generations. Minerva suppressed a sigh, turning her introspection back to her student as he replied with a smile.

       “All of it,” he said. “I want to try it again please. You have already taught me pretty much everything in the realm of practical transfiguration and while I know I’ve also got the esoteric stuff, that can be awoken later. It’s the practical knowledge that’s necessary now and the animagus transformation is the last thing. I know you don’t’ want it but we have no choice at the moment.”

       “Indeed, your understanding and acceptance of the situation puts the rest of us to shame. Very well then,” Minerva said as she cleared the desks away with a wave of her wand.

       Harry came to stand in the centre of the room, and he looked at her earnestly. “I thought about it last night, and this is not the time to hold back or to be nervous. Either I will be able to do this or I won’t be and that will be that. If I can’t do it today, then I won’t be able to do it until later, if at all.”

       “Later?”

       “Later, when I’m more at peace with the notion of not being human,” Harry summarised the fears of many a wizard succinctly.

       “You will always be human,” the Gryffindor Headmistress said softly. “The transfiguration takes nothing for that, and is merely a shift in physical form, not in anything else.”

       “I know and we have discussed if it is the mind, the body or the soul that makes humans human, and while it is agreed and I agree too that it is more than the physical form that makes a human a human, that fear is still strong and instinctual.”

       “Indeed,” Minerva agreed. There wasn’t much more but to agree. They had discussed the morality of the situation as well as the ethics and had touched upon the body of work that was available in the wizarding world about the religious aspects of the animagus transformation as well as briefly touching on a few Muggle works. Harry had shown a remarkable grasp of the principles and they had enjoyed several long theoretical arguments about the nature of wizardry in regards to the animagus transformation. If anything the young Mr Potter understood the principles and the prevailing beliefs better than the Ministry themselves did. The Ministry regarded the animagus transformation as nothing more than the indication of a truly skilled witch or wizard using their magic on themselves. Their interest was merely in keeping control by registering animagus forms so that any transgressions could be noted and controlled and appropriate punishments, if required, also enforced. They cared nothing for the other issues that may come with the transformation. Harry had and it had been another proud moment, tinged with guilt when he had brought them up. A few of this other teachers had also had similar discussions, not about animagi but about other moral and ethical considerations of magic that most never bothered to think about. All of his teachers were proud and all shared the same fear.

       “So either I do it or I don’t,” he said with a smile that reminded her of his father so much it was uncanny. “And today I’ve decided that I will do.” He closed his eyes, tilting his face up to the light as his expression took on a look of peace and concentration.

       The Gryffindor house leader watched with a feeling of anticipation building. There was something different about this attempt, something more powerful and she could almost feel her cat form rising at the power young Harry was displaying.

       Something skittered at the corner of her vision and Minerva blinked carefully as she looked back to her student. Somehow the room seemed lighter than it had been a minute ago and with a start she realised that the ever present shadows that had been there all summer were now absent. She honestly didn’t know if that was good or bad but Harry didn’t seem to notice, his attention was so firmly turned inward that the reanimated corpse of Fudge himself could have come through the door in a pink tutu and he wouldn’t have noticed.

       That, she was definitely going to have to work on. While Harry would get better in time with paying attention to his surroundings while making the change, and with enough practice the change would be almost instantaneous for the moment he would need to be aware always of his surrounds. The air around him seemed to shimmer as he hovered on the verge of the actual change and McGonagall held her breath. He’d gotten this far before but now could he make that final step...

       :You’re all safe?:

       :Yes, master.:

       :I’m a little amused you know, that you need to do this.:

       :In time, master, we will be accustomed to you but you are very powerful and this is better.:

       :I’d never hurt you.:

       :We know master and we could endure it now, but for so long with so little, we are unaccustomed to your power. That is something though master, we wish to change as fast as possible.:

       Harry smiled as his servants gave him a mental caress, reassuring him and showing him without words that they would in time not shy from him in his animagus form that they would in time revel in the power it represented for them. There was also unspoken the intriguing image that they did not wish to get sick... as if a shadow could get sick. But implied in that image were echoes of humanity. They had fasted for centuries, the abundance he represented now, while yearned for, would if not controlled properly cause them harm. Not irreversible but they would for a time be so glutted that they would be close to useless. Neither he nor they wanted that so they hid now, hovering only on the edge of awareness. They would endure his full power when required but when they could avoid it, for now, they would. He sent them back a wordless burst of understanding as he fixed his shape in mind and willed his power to flow.

       Last night, when he’d been thinking about this, he’d decided that he would not show his full form. He’d be a Halfling, the physical representation of a tenshi without their blinding power, at least for now. If he had to go further in future, then it would be easy to explain that his mind had shied away from the sheer power and the loss of all physical form. After all a tenshi was a being so wrapped up in myth that most wizards didn’t even know about them. Muggles knew more but their representation had a far different connotation on it though he’d wondered sometimes about the truth. It was one of the things he really wanted to talk to his beloved about but couldn’t yet. He was sure their speculation would be both challenging and entertaining.

       With a flash he changed. The edges of light forming a barrier that shattered almost like feathers, falling away and disappearing as the shadows grabbed greedily at the disembodied power. His wings reflected the power, blindingly white for a moment before a kernel of an idea came to him and he willed them to change, darkening to a deep charcoal, almost black. Another mark of a reduction in power. Colour was only a representation of intent, the more pure the colour the stronger the intent but it would not be hard to convince the wizards that the darker colour was because he was physically unable to sustain the higher power consumption he would imply was necessary for white wings. While Minerva had been discrete he had caught her concern for him, her fear of what the wizards would do at his power. It was touching that she cared and if she would not stand aside for her teaching and for her genuine, though sometimes remote care, he would give her what mercy he could though he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She was a good teacher, one who should be there to guide future generations. While his servants had assured him that no wizard would be able to challenge his power, until he declared himself openly, he did not need to be considered untouchable.

       There was a soft plumphf’ as McGonagall fell back into her chair, her eyes wide with disbelief. The expression did not suit the usually confident woman. “Ha... Harry!” she finally managed the soft call.

       He grinned at her, slowly uncurling his fingers before his talons bit into his skin as his servants swarmed towards him, making the shadows on his robes deeper, and giving him an amplified sense of presence. :Stop that,: he chided them gently.

       They giggled in return but did not cease their movement around him. :When you are like this, master, we are one. It would be best for them to know that now.:

       “I knew I could do it,” Harry said aloud, reaching out to pull one wing down to his face to examine it. “But, Professor... I never knew animagus forms could talk... or were ... well...?” He let the question trail off in an artful display of confusion.

       “No,” Minvera faltered slightly but her voice firmed as she looked over him. “They are meant to be an animal... not... not this. I didn’t...”

       “So, what am I?”

       “You are something I thought to be mythical,” she replied, her lecturing voice coming through automatically when asked a question by a student. “And perhaps they still are.”

       “Professor?”

       “I don’t...” disbelief once again reared up in Minerva, choking the denial she was uttering.

       “You are a tenshi, Harry,” a strong male voice came from the door, one that sounded inordinately pleased and proud, “Or as much of one as any human can be.”

       “A tenshi, Headmaster?” Harry asked, turning, lowering one wing automatically so he could look over it at the wizened man who was grinning happily, his eyes sparkling with renewed strength. Already the Headmaster was working out what this would mean for the future and harry could see that he was pleased, very pleased as new possibilities opened up.

       “The mythical form the muggles would call an Angel, but we wizards would call a Lord of Magic.”

       “Oh.”

       As his innocent self once again took control that was all Harry could mutter before the world went black and he didn’t even feel the stone floor rush up to meet him.

 

 

 


	15. Making Pathways

Weapon   
Chapter 15 Making Pathways

===

       Remus sat back watching Harry breath as he slept, his face a mask of contentment. He was still in his animagus form which had made navigating through some of the more narrow doorways rather interesting when they'd shifted him back to the infirmary. He smiled, wondering if it was even possible for this secret to be kept. Albus had confirmed that Harry was simply tired from his transformation and after seeing that the young man was comfortably settled he'd bustled off to attend to Order business.

       Remus had agreed to watch him. Sirius hadn't asked, he hadn't needed to ask but Remus had agreed never the less to watch over Harry in his absence. As if there was much choice. He was not about to let Lily and James' child wander off alone. The Marauders' just didn't do that. So it was that he sat there, admiring the soft sheen of each feather as Harry slept, wondering about the future.

       There was a chance of keeping this secret, the werewolf decided.

       The Vampires didn't know. There was no reason to tell the Ministry. There was no reason to tell either, especially if this could be passed off as Harry trying too hard in the change.

       After all, it wasn't as if the animagus transformation was essential or common and it was one of those bits of magic that was mastered only later in life, if the wizard or witch was interested in that type of thing. Completing it, while still in school was unheard of. Present company excepted of course. The Ministry wasn't really a problem. They'd either be told or not. It was the Vampires that were more concerning. Would Dumbledore tell them? Would he decide they didn't need to know.

       It was easier speculating about the vampires and Dumbledore's handling of them than thinking about those things he had to... though his mind was too quick tonight to settle or to be distracted.

       Albus was off planning with the vampires, probably some combined strike on some unimportant target. They were all unimportant. Until the battle against Voldemort himself, none of the targets were really bothering him. The compromises and the communications between the Vampires and the Ministry worried him... far more than he let on. It was not a good precedent and if this worked, how long would it be before Werewolves were declared anathema merely because they had not yet stated their loyalty to a Ministry that scored and persecuted them. The Order knew the price that would bring the Werewolves but it never seemed to be quite important enough for them to work on.

       He'd asked Albus about it and had expected an answer but today was obviously Harry's day. Not that he minded this delay but the others... they were grating and it was becoming harder and harder for him to really see why he should wait, why they should wait for the Ministry to perhaps repeal their laws. The longer it took, the harder it would be to convince the Gathering, and the less he found himself wanting to convince them.

       He shook his head. No. The only way for werewolves to be accepted was through the law. They had seen the other paths... they knew the other paths. The Ministry knew the other paths but they never seemed to remember that they had a role in forcing the werewolves to them. Why was it so hard to treat them as human? It wasn't as if most of the werewolves wanted to be what they were or wanted to hurt anyone. But they were pushed to that. A few, of course, took that path voluntarily and while Remus hated their actions, he couldn't bring himself to condemn them utterly. They though, the werewolves who voluntarily followed the Dark Lord, were another worry. It was all too easy to see how their mere presence would be used to persecute all of them. But those werewolves were also a part of the pack and contributed to the wellbeing of the pack, often generously and mostly without reciprocation. Every now and then they did ask that some of the others come to serve the Dark Lord but when that happened they were reminded that the choice to serve was made by the individual. Because the pack had not chosen the path of dark.

       Yet.

       Remus snorted softly to himself. That 'yet' was telling and the pressure was growing. Those Death Eater werewolves didn't have to say a thing. They continued to serve the pack and continued to serve the Dark Lord, and that was enough for most to see that serving the Dark Lord, while perhaps against their personal inclination, gave them a purpose, a future, let them contribute to the wellbeing of the pack, let them feel useful. That feeling of worthlessness was something he understood far too well. He'd felt it when the news came through about Lily and James and when he'd watched Sirius dragged away. The little he'd done, keeping the canine animagus' wand safe, was pathetic yet it was all he could do. The fight against the feeling of worthlessness was why he had taken up the position of pack leader, why he continued to work with Dumbledore and the Order to influence the Ministry, why he continued to try for the werewolves... oh yes, he knew that feeling and he knew how much the pack suffered from it, how many it had broken.

       He glanced over as Harry stirred, unconsciously moving his wings to wrap them around himself tighter, smoothing the feathers with an absent hand before he feel back into slumber.

       The Gathering was after the next moon. And before he went, he would have to sort out his feelings. All the Pack Leaders would. Or else they would risk indecision at a time when they couldn't, because if they couldn't come to a decision - any decision - then it was all too easy to know what would happen.  Those werewolves serving the Dark Lord would continue to serve, the Ministry would continue to use them as an excuse to avoid repealing their laws, and eventually some newspaper or ambitious Ministerial hack would get a hold of one of the Dark Lord's servants and would then use them to illustrate the evil nature of all werewolves, probably with some over dramatized photos of them biting innocent Muggles. No, this time they had to make a decision, they couldn't just let things coast along as they had during the last rise of the Dark Lord. For good or ill, they would have to make a stand and publically announce it. At the very least that should mean that Ministry could see that there were differences in the werewolves and that not all of them served the Dark Lord because even if the pack turned that way, there would be those who served the light - in some manner. Though, if the pack did decide to serve the Dark Lord, there was the possibility of sanctioned extermination... That argument had stayed the call to openly support Dark Lords in the past. Remus wasn't sure if it would hold now though... not with the Vampires serving the Ministry.

       Which of course left the fourth option or the third, depending on if you counted making no decision to be a fair option. Option one; serve the Ministry - unlikely without changes in how things were. Option two; serve the Dark Lord. This was increasingly likely with the Ministry's continued indifference and the Order's alliance with the Vampires. Option three; do nothing. The path they were very familiar with, had tried many times in the past,  and allowed those werewolves serve as they would, while the whole declared no loyalty. It was a choice but this time, it was unlikely to be adequate. Option four; the new comer, the unknown power - a power that was prepared to give surety.

       Remus shivered, remembering his meeting with that power's representative. They represented a dark path, that was certain, but it was not the darkness of the Dark Lord. It was something else but was it evil, was it just dark or was it something else entirely? Did it even matter? 

       Surety. Remus knew that that was what the rest of his folk would focus on. For once they would have someone to blame when things went wrong, for once they would be able to strike back.

       But would surety matter if the Ministry won? Would surety matter if the Dark Lord won? Would going down that path be the same as doing nothing or would it be viable choice? It was a path. After meeting with the representative he knew that much, it was a path but was it the best path? That was the question he had to answer now. Their representative had been convincing without being over bearing and the last part of their conversation had shown... Lupin frowned as he considered the feeling. It was true. Yes, the last part had shown humanity. They offered the most tantalizing and appealing path, at least for him but would the others be able to see that, would they embrace that hope?

       Remus blinked then smiled in contentment.

       All that worry and he'd made his decision after all.

       Though to convince the others he'd need some proof.

       And he knew exactly what that would be.

===

       Iavor suppressed the urge to curl his lip in disgust. The things the Ministry was allowing these days was enough to make any normal wizard scream in frustration yet he did nothing of the sort. He sat there, day after day, and smiled and nodded and felt sicker and sicker and more and more ashamed of himself with every non-human that went past that he did nothing about. Every application, every bit of paper bearing the mark of a non-human he'd processed, was just the same as the others. Because that was all he could do since he couldn't scream out his true feelings.

       But this latest thing... he was very close to just getting up and walking away... except with the Dark Lord out there he had nothing to walk to.

       He'd never been very good at History. Binns had bored him, as he had most other people in their year level but even he did remember the grinding tedium and hundreds of years’ worth of history with the goblins. And precious few of those years had been peaceful. Vampires, Iavor could stretch to accepting and the Ministry was rumoured to be running some joint tasks with them. Vampires had after all once been human for the most part. Hell, he'd even accept werewolves! Again they had once been human but goblins...

       The Ministry just expected everyone to forget the past, forget their thieving, treacherous ways and just accept and give the goblins an equal part in the magical world! It was enough to make him scream. But he stamped the forms and sat there, smiling inanely as he worked, his mind seething with frustration he dared not voice.

       Their supervisor had made it very clear that this was a Ministry Directive coming from the highest levels backed by the Order of the Phoenix. A small shiver passed through him as he considered the legendary group.  The Order was something everyone knew of but nothing more. They had existed for centuries, so it was rumoured, open only to the best and the brightest and the strongest of Wizards and while they worked with the Ministry they had their own bases, their own rules and their own authority. They seldom stepped into the light but they existed, guiding, whispering advice, overseeing Wizarding society.

       Up until now, Iavor had always assumed they had been working towards a balanced Wizarding world, one where they were still hidden from Muggles but otherwise free to do what they wanted. This latest thing, with them embracing the Goblins, insisting that they were equal now left him doubting. Except for the edict about Goblins, the edict that bore the official seal of the Ministry and was posted up on their information board, all else was pure rumour, speculation. Interesting, but unfounded. Though it left him doubting, left him wanting to know what else he could be doing.

       His father always said he accepted things too easily as a Hufflepuff, that he just went along with the flow without considering. Well... time to do some considering, Iavor thought as he began stamping a new stack of papers, not even seeing the names beyond vaguely noting that they were things like Fiddlechop Hamlock... a definite Goblin name.

       The Ministry had been caught by surprise by the Dark Lord and it was only the action of Lucius Malfoy that had saved the day. The Ministry had neither confirmed nor denied that Malfoy had been a rebel Death Eater and that his wife and son were also being circumspect in their dealings with the media, who was only too happy to proclaim the Malfoy patriarch to be a rebel Death Eater.

       So if they'd been caught by surprise, what did that mean?

       It meant that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had moved at a pace that the Ministry had been unprepared for, that he was stronger than they thought and that...

       That they needed all the allies they could get.

       Iavor suppressed a shudder, forcing himself to continue stamping the papers in unison with the others. There'd been a tension in the Ministry lately, since the attack but he'd assumed it was merely because they'd been attacked directly. What if it was something more, what if it was because they were truly afraid of losing? What if it was because the Ministry was holding on to order by a thread?

       Now where did that leave him?

       Up the proverbial creek.

       Never let it be said that a Hufflepuff couldn't be eloquent, insightful and concise on occasion.

       It left him stuck in this dead end job, stamping papers bearing the names of any non-human who could make a mark as the Ministry whored themselves to anyone who might give them power in the hope that they could hold off the Dark Lord. It meant that one day he'd probably see instead of Greythorp Idamin, one of the most bureaucratically inclined wizards Iavor had ever had the misfortune to meet, but who was still human, some goblin with an unpronounceable name giving the orders in the department and he'd be surrounded by anything with a hoof or a claw, slobbering and grunting and stamping.

       This time he did shudder but his stamp never missed a beat and his mind seemed to fly as it considered options.

       Firstly, the Ministry had offered the Goblins equality with wizards. That couldn't be undone and they would provide a viable fighting force, one that could spearhead any campaign and take heavy losses. Hopefully, that was what the Ministry intended all along.

       Secondly, a further treaty or an update to the existing treaty with the Vampires was almost certainly signed off or about to be signed off. There was nothing he, a mere clerk, could do about that.

       Thirdly, other species could be expected to sign on, especially if there were no visible problems with the integration of the vampires and goblins. Veela, Giants, centaurs, werewolves... the list was almost endless. The Ministry would be so busy dealing with the frictions between races that they wouldn't get anything done. Not that they were that efficient anyway but this would reduce the efficiency to close to zero and wizards and witches would just fall to the wayside.  No doubt, institutions such as Hogwarts would be expected to educate the non-humans as well... leaving less and less space to the humans.

       Those were things he could not change. And quite possibly he'd never be in a position where he could change them. Certainly not in the next few years. A year ago he would have raged about that. Today, he just shrugged it off as reality. He could however, give out information about his job more freely, just gossip more regularly, something he'd been reluctant to do when asked in the pub as he enjoyed a butterbeer after work. And he could make sure that any nonhuman paperwork that went past him that was not filled out correctly was rejected.

       Neither of those would do much good though, he concluded somewhat glumly and rejecting the paperwork was particularly petty. There had to be something else.

       You could join the Dark Forces.

       The suggestion came from deep within his mind, so deep he wasn't sure he heard it. He considered it dispassionately, moving two to three reports into his file for 'Reconsideration' when he noticed their applicant's names and a few small discrepancies within the writing. He could join the Dark Forces, he acknowledged. But what would that do really?

       He'd still be in this job. If called to fight, he'd likely be dead. He was a good wizard but not that good especially in combat. That was more a Gryffindor or Slytherin calling. He'd still be in this job, still working the same hours, processing the same information...

       Information.

       His office dealt with it incessantly. It was all they did. They transferred applications for almost everything to various Wizarding departments. Applications to research, applications for permits to build, applications for thestral ownership, griffon ownership, applications to open businesses, to transport goods, to travel overseas, everything. It was a truism that if you filled out of a bit of paper, at some stage somehow it would come through his department.

       He could give that information to the Dark Forces. How many non-humans were called to muster, how many were issued with what equipment, were now legally allowed to practice their so called trades in the open, how many were helping the Ministry.

       And in return... in return, what did he want?

       His mind almost chuckled as it replied to his internal question. He wanted the wizards back where they should be - in control, in charge, not dealing or negotiating with the goblins or vampires or any other non-human. Not having to seek support for anything. Goblins, vampires, werewolves, Veela... all of them were a part of the magical world but none of them should be allowed to rise above their place.  And their place was serving or otherwise providing education to wizards as they went about their ways, in their own communities, own environments that did not impose upon Wizard or Muggle societies. So how did he join the Dark Forces?

       Let them find me, he answered his own question again. Just go to the pub, gossip as usual, though perhaps let slip a few more comments about wizard superiority and they would find him. Probably not immediately but it would happen. After all with the Ministry busy scrambling around seeking support, that implied that the Dark Forces had already recruited, had already put in position their means for support. All he had to do was let the right people find him.

       And they would.

===

       Elliot ground his teeth in frustration, looking down at the layout of tomorrow's front page with the screaming headline 'EXPOSED'.

       This was going to be bad. This was going to be very bad but no one in the paper had believed him. No one really cared. All they were seeing was the instant reaction of the wizards and the sales this would generate.

       He'd tried to stop the Editor. The Order knew he'd tried to explain but the man seemed almost possessed and was certainly determined. And it wasn't the determination of one under Imperio, it was the determination of one who saw accolades pending and didn't want to consider reality, didn't want to consider the consequences, one who didn't even see the consequences. He'd gotten word to Dumbledore but even Albus hadn't been able to think of a way of preventing this. Not without knowing how it had happened.

       And that was the one thing no one was talking about.

       No one was talking about how Wilbur O'Haresh, the dependable, stock standard reporter who's crowning achievement in his career so far had been correctly predicting that the knut would actually rise against the riven with the confirmation that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned, in other words, the Prophet's economic hack writer, had not only been able to find but had been able to confirm that an as yet unnamed Ministry official was not only a werewolf but one sworn to the service of the Dark Lord. Yet the photographs kindly provided by the Aurors and blazoned under the headline were conclusive and unarguable for all that they covered the werewolves face, his Ministry mark on his robes was clearly visible, as was the Dark Mark on this hitched up sleeve.

       Whoever he was, he'd been caught, his Dark Mark revealed and he'd stood for the photograph with a sense of arrogant assurance. It was in the stance, this man, this Death Eater wasn't resigned to his fate now that he was caught. It was almost like the picture of Sirius Black, published all those years ago, laughing as he stood holding the card with his prison numbers. This wasn't the same, the werewolf wasn't insane but was coldly calculating and assured of his might. He really was one of those werewolves that took pleasure in his work and had been quoted as saying during interrogation, 'I'm just the first. Soon all of us will serve him.'

       This was going to be very, very bad and Elliot couldn't help but wonder if the Dark Lord had set this up. Remus had made his position clear to the Order. The Werewolves wanted equality before they could serve with the Ministry but the presence of the Vampires was straining them, was pushing them towards the Dark Lord, though as a whole they had not yet made a decision. Once Lupin had explained why the werewolves hated the vampires, it had made rather too much sense that they could not just throw in with the Ministry, though their previous history did not help matters.

       But this.

       No matter that this man was a proven Death Eater, no matter that he had undoubtedly been doing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's work, the manner of his exposure, arrest and the subsequent press and backlash against the werewolves, Elliot didn't see any way that they would be coming in on to the Ministry side this time. Short of absolute full equality and some very harsh laws guaranteeing that equality, laws that were actually supported by the Aurors, something few of them would have the courage to do... Something the Ministry didn't have the courage to do…

       Yeah... the chances of that happening… The Muggle phrase a 'snowflakes chance in hell' sprang to mind rather readily. No, the Ministry would not offer the werewolves anything like that. They couldn't, not after this. In fact, most wizards would want the werewolves to abase themselves and beg for acceptance after this. They wouldn't care, they wouldn't see that this was a media play, designed to create fear and that it wasn't the werewolves fault. But most wizards wouldn't care. They would see the non-human side and blame all of them, make all of them accountable. Never mind that such a standard was never applied to wizards. Never mind that werewolves were human for ninety five percent of the time and that most went to extreme lengths to ensure that they did not and could not hurt anyone for the five percent of the time when they had no control over their actions. After all this press, that would mean less than nothing to most wizards.

       The werewolves might possibly be able to declare neutrality but even if they did, that would just make most wizards believe that they were all Death Eater's anyway. So neutrality may just be an option that was synonymous with destruction. Slower perhaps, especially if they were vocal about their neutrality and especially if the Order could perhaps show Remus helping out in significant ways but it would still be a path of non-acceptance and most wizards would twist neutrality into the werewolves hiding the fact that they supported the Dark Lord, would twist it into some attempt of the werewolves trying to play both sides. That would be a very readily drawn conclusion, especially if other non-humans came in to support the Ministry and the Order, especially if the vampires had any say in the matter. And after they'd served on a few more missions, Elliot knew that Xeoaph would no doubt be willing to talk to the media. A few stilted phrases at first, but the vampire could be personable when he wanted, charming, logical and no doubt he'd take more than a bit of pleasure in taunting the werewolves, in pointing out that they weren't helping the wizards when the vampires, traditional enemies of wizards had put aside their dislike enough to counter the greater evil. Elliot could see all too clearly how that would unfold.

       Which left the werewolves in an unenviable position; unable to support the Ministry with any degree of fairness or equality for themselves and unable to declare neutrality without it being construed as support for the Dark Lord. And potentially, Elliot prayed, unwilling to support the Dark Lord.

       Though the way things were going 'unwilling to support' may soon be replaced by 'have to support' and when the Order won, Elliot knew exactly where that would leave the werewolves but right at the moment he couldn't see a whole lot of choice for them. Maybe Remus would, maybe Albus would, maybe anyone would but right at the moment Elliot couldn't see any choice.

       He looked around the office at the radiant faces of his fellow journalists as they sought to congratulate Wilbur on a great article and an amazing bit of investigative journalism and he sighed, slipping his wand back into its holster in the small of his back, before moving unobtrusively to the door. As he pushed his punch card into the reader, hearing it click loudly, Elliot heard the Editor laugh, his voice showing no concern, no worry, only triumph.

       He needed a drink.

===

       "They're efficient, aren't they?" Kisha asked, watching the scene play out on the battle table, the little illusions showing everything that had transpired at one of the Dark Lord's supposed safe places.

       "After the scare I gave them, they have plenty of incentive," the Dark Lord Voldemort replied in an offhand manner, but she was astute enough to pick up the hint of an edge in his voice.

       He might be pretending that his last attack was not for real but that defeat had cost dearly and rankled deeply. "This will affect morale," she said, skirting the issue.

       "It will, they all do." Again the Dark Lord showed surprising candour in his response. "But this won't cost as much as the Atrium, and while that was a defeat in that I did not win the Ministry, I won something far more valuable there."

       "Oh, what?" Kisha giggled internally. While this Dark Lord was interesting and was slightly different from those of the past, he still said much the same lines as they all did and trying to pass off a defeat as a victory was just one of them, no matter how close that defeat had been.

       "You," Voldemort replied, smiling through the lie, as he sensed Kisha's true thoughts. Vampire Elder she might be, controlled as she might be, but some things she broadcast to the world to see, once you knew how to read her. And while she had centuries to learn to control herself, she hadn't had much need to practice while he had decades of study in reading people, decades in which his ability had to be perfect or he risked destruction.

       She preened under the flattery. Despite everything, she was still female and while she didn't believe the flattery, his response was believable when examined from her point of view. She assumed he'd had his alliance with the shadows cemented much earlier. She assumed a lot of things she should be checking but didn't.

       "Shall I tell you my counter to the Order's little skirmishes?"

       "Please do," Kisha purred, as Voldemort flicked his wand through a small series of turns, changing the display on the tactical table to his next intended target and the vectors of attack he had determined to be optimal for his objective.

       "Oh my," she whispered almost reverentially.

       "Indeed," he smiled, "And while it would be a nice opportunity to reveal you, my dear, I do believe it's too early so I'm going to insist that you watch but don't play this time. I don't expect many vampires to be present anyway."

       Kisha laughed a little, watching the scenario play through again. This attack wasn't about domination or slaughter or gaining ground, it was about propaganda, presence and destroying Ministry morale while raising the Dark Forces and it would accomplish those goals admirably. She would of course warn Xeoaph, but as the first real attack plans the Dark Lord had included her on, this attack could not fail, not completely, not unless something truly unexpected happened. That would make the battle that much more tense but it would also make the outcome that much more satisfying.

       "So then, the initial attack will be head on and even if the Order is expecting it, the two flanking squads can rally to ensure the first attack succeeds. Once that happens I expect a few minutes of confusion before we start taking return fire..." The Dark Lord paused, the images he was manipulating freezing mid attack as he turned to face the Death Eater who had apparated into the room.

       Kisha thought for a moment that the Dark Lord would strike at the intruder, but a moment later she noticed him relax as he took in the subtle markings on the robes. Only a few Death Eater's had the authority and the audacity to dare to interrupt their Master and only a few had the ability and the appropriate clearances enter this room uninvited but even so she doubted that the Dark Lord appreciated the interruption or the potential leak in plans.

       "What is it, Bonning?"

       The Death Eater stirred, rising slightly from the kneeling position they had taken upon entering the room but never rising to their feet. "My Lord, we have confirmed that Gideon Prayleor has been taken into custody."

       "Are you sure?"

       "Yes, my Lord. The Prophet will bear the news tomorrow, declaring him to be a werewolf Death Eater, loyal unto death to you. He did not go willingly."

       Voldemort nodded, eyes narrowed as he considered the implications. In terms of him recruiting the werewolves this was not a bad thing, though in terms of security it was not a good thing. Gideon had missed several meetings of his cell without notification, without cause, thus the order had been given to find him. Given that the Ministry had to know that revealing Gideon as a werewolf Death Eater would practically guarantee him the werewolves loyalty, especially with the Order's dealings with the vampires, it was a safe assumption that this wasn't a play or a betrayal. The mere report that he did not go willingly was never enough to convince the Dark Lord. "They are keeping him in a standard anti-werewolf cell?"

       "Yes, my Lord," Bonning's voice remained neutral but he was calmed by his Master's calm acceptance of the situation.

       "Then I will speak with Gideon later to let him know how he may still serve," the Dark Lord said confidently, dismissing the importance of the matter in his subordinates mind, creating that air of calm assurance that was necessary to lead. "What further news do you bring?"

       Bonning was a squad captain, which meant he oversaw several cells and reported their actions back to his Master. He was like most of the other squad captains. He was senior within the ranks of Voldemort's regular Death Eaters, though his name was one that was being considered for promotion to his elite. Bonning knew that though because he knew the privileges he had; however he did not truly appreciate how far down the ranking scale it was. He would, once he became Elite and he would renew his loyalty with fervour when he realised that his Master had trusted him enough to make him Elite. Bonning's cells though contained most of the werewolves that had pledged their loyalty to Voldemort and Bonning was one of the few wizards who saw their ability as a strength rather than a weakness, a strength he could exploit in battle to further his position. The werewolves accepted that, but what made Bonning useful was that the werewolves also reported that he did not treat them as animals and that made them loyal to Bonning, as well as loyal to the Dark Lord, especially after Voldemort had made sure that the werewolves were aware that his inclination was to treat them as wizards but as wizards with great combat potential, which meant better rewards. Gideon had been in one of Bonning's cells.

       "It's been confirmed, my Lord, there will be a full Gathering after the next moon."

       "A Gathering?" Voldemort asked.

       Bonning stirred, glancing between the Dark Lord and the vampire elder that watched on silently and Voldemort smiled to himself when Bonning spoke again, his loyalty to the Dark Lord stronger than his loyalty to his soldiers. He would be rewarded for that and soon.

       "The werewolves told me that a Gathering is when their pack leaders meet to decide what path the werewolves should take. They are not held often as there is seldom a need for a decision that affects all of them and they were reluctant to hold one as the last one saw the death of most of the pack leaders when it was ambushed by Ministry forces. You might recall, my Lord that the werewolves openly supported Grindlewald. That was a result of the last Gathering," Bonning gave the explanation and history he had been given.

       "They have group leaders?" Kisha breathed, intrigued. Werewolves were so fragmented and shunned that she didn't think they would have been able to maintain any sort of structure.

       "Not many," Bonning replied after Voldemort gestured that he should answer. "And none with the authority to do more than strongly suggest, though what the Gathering decides, most werewolves will follow."

       "Will those who report to you follow the Gathering?" The Dark Lord asked pointedly.

       Beneath the mask, Voldemort felt Bonning smirk. "No, they assured me they would remain loyal to you, no matter what the Gathering decided."

       The response was firm and sure and the Dark Lord smiled. "You may give them surety about Gideon. None of my servants are forgotten. Should I go?" Voldemort added the question, half musing to himself.

       "My Lord?"

       "Should I attend this Gathering?"

       Bonning considered it, aware that his Master had most likely already come to a decision and that he was being tested. "No, my Lord, I don't think so," he said slowly. "While the personal touch is appreciated for some, I think in this case, with Gideon being captured and revealed, the werewolves would take your presence as being too eager, and they would be reminded of their past. While foolish, I believe they may then shy away from serving you."

       Voldemort nodded his agreement with Bonning's assessment, ignoring the way the man relaxed. "Get in contact with Gideon's brother, see if we can recruit him. Send Muraan, do it just after the moon so we can know if Gideon bit his brother. Either way it matters not, see if he can be recruited. Tell all the werewolves that none of my servants are forgotten and I will be speaking with Gideon personally to ascertain his desires. It may be useful for us to have a prisoner who can observe, for a time at least. Until I have further instructions, continue as you have been. Watching, observing and training. When the day comes to strike, it will be swift."

       Bonning nodded, before lowering his head in servitude and vanishing.

       Kisha looked at the place he had been before turning back to the Dark Lord. "That was interesting," she said, tactfully understating the situation.

       "Very interesting," he replied before turning back to the attack. "But it changes nothing. Or rather it means that I need to speak to my werewolves personally to find out more about their structure. If it's as loose as indicated, it's useless, but if it can be manipulated, or made more binding... then that would be much more useful to me."

       _:And much more dangerous to my kind,:_ Kisha thought, forcing herself to calm. The Dark Lord saw only the moment, he didn't think about one hundred years hence, when an organised pack of werewolves could wreak havoc on the vampires on a full moon, or the Ministry or whatever they perceived to be a threat. Though it strengthened her desire and gave her a new goal. Werewolves, while good nourishment, if allowed to continue would one day develop their governance themselves and that had to be stopped. No matter which side they supported, they had renewed the enmity of the Vampires, who had been content to let them exist.

       Now they would be exterminated.

===

       Dumbledore stood still, Xeoaph beside him as they watched their combined task force rip into the building that was formerly a safe house for Voldemort's forces.  They were becoming very efficient but still needed a little bit of work as they'd failed to get the net up before a few Death Eaters had apparated, taking with them any useful information. A few lower level Death Eaters remained and while they would be questioned, it was doubtful they would have anything useful to say. They'd be handed over to the Aurors to be paraded around like that Werewolf as evidence of the Ministry's continued war against the Dark Lord. It mattered little that the Ministry had yet to successfully mount an assault against a squad of Voldemort's troops... had yet to find a squad to mount any assault on. Albus suppressed a smirk at that, the expression not his usual one but his attempt was noticed.

       "Something interesting?" Xeoaph asked.

       "Just thinking that the Ministry would love to be the architects of this but then we'd be up to our ears in media."

       The vampires eyes sparkled slightly and he saw the joke. "True," he replied softly, flicking a finger towards one of his subordinates who had approached for instruction. The younger vampire nodded at the unspoken message before he turned away to continue moving with his squad of Order members. "When will young Harry be ready?"

       "Soon," Albus replied, "very soon. I am very pleased with his progress."

       "Yet he has yet to master the animagus transformation, and has done himself damage attempting it."

       This time Albus did smirk and the vampire stirred at the expression.

       "Something has changed?"

       "Oh yes, something has more than changed."

       Xeoaph didn't question though his expression showed his curiosity.

       "It's a surprise," the Headmaster said quietly, though with a definite note of pleasure in his voice. "You'll find out soon anyway, and I don't want to spoil the surprise, for you or for anyone."

       The vampire elder sighed with an obscure sense of loss. "I should have taken him when I had the chance," he said under his breath before looking back to his ally. "He's something special?"

       Albus chuckled as Fawkes came to land on his shoulder, the phoenix's head turning from side to side as he examined the now burning building. "He is very special," he said with a small shake of his head.

       :I will teach him to fly,: Fawkes added as the squads of Vampires and Order members formed up, their job complete as they waited for orders.

       Xeoaph's pale blue eyes widened slightly as he considered if the phoenix meant that figuratively or literally. Either way, Albus was right, Harry was something special and not taking him would be a regret for a very long time... assuming that the Shadow Lord was strong enough to do what was necessary. If not, Xeoaph was certain he'd get over it.

===

       Snape looked at the bubbling potion before him. It wasn't a difficult one, it was one he'd brewed almost countless times before, it was one he schooled the various brats in throughout the year but today he was shaking so hard that he just had not been able to brew it at all. Every single time he tried it turned from a beautiful lavender blue, to an atrocious sickly pink or a bright red that was almost as bad, or a green that just refused to bubble... or any number of other colours that were just not the right colour for this potion.

       He snarled, looking down at his hands as he attempted to vanish yet another batch of it. It was just a sleeping potion, something he'd been needing more and more frequently lately as the whispers continued, invading his dreams, invading any moment he wasn't on guard. Yet he couldn't hold his hands steady enough to even brew a first year potion. Some master he was.

       Things were happening, too many things were happening that he didn't know about and could be called into question about. Things that he should know about, things that he wanted to know about and things that he would need to know about if he was to attempt to avoid raising the Dark Lord's ire. About the only good news was that Potter had almost finished what training he needed and could now begin being trained in mastering his servants. When that happened, they could be called to heel.

       :You can't ask him though, you won't ask him though. We know you Severus, you would never bow so far as to ask Harry to call us into check.:

       The shadow voice almost seemed to laugh and for a moment Snape was tempted to prove them wrong, was tempted to march straight into the infirmary and demand that Harry order his pets to heel, order them to stay away from him. But the shadow voice was also correct. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He could never lower himself that much.

       Which now left him shaking, barely able to wield his wand and barely able to brew a potion.

       :That's assuming of course that he can call us... that he does have power over us.:

       Snape snarled. He didn't need the reminder. Yet the voice that whispered, that purred, that said the most uncomfortable things always knew exactly what to say to put him on edge and while it felt like a shadow or shadows... he wasn't yet sure that it was the same shadow that was referred to as Potter's supposed power. Though even if they were he didn't believe that one man, one boy could control the shadows, not against something they wanted, and apparently they wanted him.

       :Not really Snape, we don't want you in any way you think we do. We just want you to be happy and we are the only ones who can make you happy.:

       He ran a hand through his hair and stalked out of the room, heading towards his quarters. The shadows wouldn't bother him there, they couldn't really bother him there as he'd set up so many lights that every shadow was illuminated and with the darkness reduced, so was their voice. It was a petty thing but it was the only defence he had which perversely, seemed to amuse them even more.

       :Of course it does. Amuse us that is,: the shadow's echoing voice whispered to him just as he reached the door to his rooms.

       "Why?" he asked tightly. He always asked one question before entering his room. It was the only time he acknowledged them, the only time he admitted that their voice was real.

       :Because, sooner or later, the Order or the Dark Lord will force you away from here and then where will you and your pretty lights be?: They laughed the reply ignoring the way he slammed the door on them, and drowned himself in the light. :And because our Master's light is so much more potent. When we can stand that, your little lights will be as starlight and then you will come to us.:

===

       Sirius stalked down the road. He'd stomped earlier but all that had gotten him was sore feet, so stalking with a dark expression was the best he could manage at the current time. Things were happening, everything was happening - Harry had completed his Animagus transformation for the Order, the vampires and the Order had done multiple missions, so far successfully, some idiot at the Ministry had teamed with some reporter to reveal a Death eater Werewolf and the Order was negotiating with the Goblins to give them more concessions.

       Everything was happening and he was stuck in the middle of no-where, in the dull countryside, looking for magical creatures, who for the most part did not want to be found, and who could be guaranteed, almost to a creature, did not want to get involved with the war. Those who did have an interest, were already committed. Those who didn't wanted to keep it that way. They didn't know who was going to win and they didn't want to piss off either side.

       Besides, why join a side that treated non wizards as less than dirt? He hadn't been asked that yet, but he could see the question coming, he could see it all too clearly. Non-human magical beasts were not stupid after all. They saw what was done to the werewolves, who were once human and they weren't about to make the same mistakes. Perhaps though the deal with the Vampies and the negotiations with the Goblins would warm things up but Sirius didn't think so. It would take more than the offer of equality to convince some of the non-humans, it would take the reality and by then it would be too late.

       Which was why he should be back with Re... at Hogwarts where he could do some good! He'd said as much to Dumbledore but the man hadn't budged with his insistence that he be the one to go out recruiting. Okay it was true, he was better equipped than most wizards to rough it, and it was also true that he had the notoriety and the education - curtsey of that Black upbringing - to actually get into contact with some of the non-humans but that didn't mean he was the only wizard in the Order who could have done this. He was just the first wizard Albus had on hand.

       And he definitely should be there while Harry was growing and while Remus was facing those accusations alone. Nothing much had been said in the Prophet recently but the accusation was there, that all werewolves were the Dark Lords and they should be... well it wasn't quite that they should be hunted down yet, but it was getting there. Certainly all known werewolves should be watched most closely for ties to the Dark Lord. Remus was under so much stress and he wasn't there.

       :Oh it's not that bad!: The shadow's echoy voice chuckled. :Look, the gorse is in bloom.: A puff of wind shook one of the taller gorse bushes lining the laneway, sending a shower of fading gold petals into the air.

       They were right, the bush was blooming but it was ending the main stay and most of the blooms were brown, turning into seed pods for when the weather here would get truly hot and allow them to break and scatter. If he'd been here earlier in the season then the bush would have looked yellow with flowers which in no way inhibited the plants ability to catch his clothes on the spine like leaves.

       "Very pretty," he muttered as he continued walking. He had a few more miles to go today before he considered stopping for the night. He travelled on foot most days, casting a location charm every now and then to see if there was anything of interest in the area but he did a more specific divination each night once he'd stopped. That let him find those creatures that wanted to remain hidden. Of course, those who really wanted to hide, he wouldn't find but then probably neither would the Death eaters or the Ministry Aurors. So far he'd found a lot of non-sentient magical creatures masquerading as something the Muggles wouldn't react to. Concealment charms on Hippogriffs for those wizards living near to Muggles in the cities was well and good but out here, it was every magical beast for himself and most had managed to blend quite well. It was only because Sirius knew they weren't what they were hiding as that he could even spot some of them. No matter. The non-sentients weren't what he was looking for.

       And the sentient ones that he was searching for knew better than to just let him find them.

       :Well, perhaps we can give you something else to do today?: The shadows asked, flickering on the ground as he walked.

       "Oh, you want me to go talk to another lot of things for you?"

       :Not at all,: the shadows said. :Besides if we recruit everything Dumbledore will be suspicious if you don't talk to anyone. We want you to do something else this time, something that should help you alleviate some stress.:

       "So what do you need?"

       :The Ministry has something we want and we need it fetched from one of their buildings. Usually we'd just transport it ourselves but we figured it might be good to have you seen again, to establish your presence and credentials as they were.:

       "To show that there is still a wild card in play?"

       :Yes, a wild card that does what it wants, when it wants because it can.:

       "All right," Sirius agreed easily more than happy for the opportunity to actually do something besides walk around in search of those who didn't really want to be found. "It would probably be good to be seen away from the Dark Lord as well since at least some of the Ministry will no doubt think I serve him. When do you want me to go?"

       :Wait until you've set up for tonight and done the usual spells, just in case Fawkes checks in,: the shadows said in a pleased tone. He could tell they were pleased that he'd thought of the implication with the Serpent Lord, though they honestly weren't sure if that was the interpretation the Ministry would make. :After that, get ready and apparate, we'll make sure you get to the destination.:

===

       Voldemort hid his displeasure behind what he hoped was a neutral expression. The next few hours promised to be moderately... annoying, necessary but distinctly annoying. 

       He had hoped that he would be past this by now but he wasn't and he probably wouldn't be for a while yet, not until his servants were educated in his ways, not until they really understood what he stood for, what he fought for. So many of them only saw what they wanted and that was something he needed to address now.

       Usually he'd have just given orders to implement what he wanted done today but some of his beloved's words were staying with him. 'It seems to me that you have forgotten a basic premise. You want wizards to take their rightful place and to rule muggles but you forget that to rule, there must be wizards. Those old families with their pure blood and single child could never rule and are asking for their own destruction.' It was galling but it was true and in the aftermath of the failed attempt to take the Ministry, in between all the other battles he had been running and implementing and allies like Kisha he had been courting he had also been questioning some of his followers. And with everything he learnt, his beloved's words had just echoed back at him, their truth was reinforced with every answer given to him by those of noble birth.

       So many of them had a single child, some had two children but it was few that had three or four children. Most of his followers seemed to be content with focusing their efforts on the one child, trusting that wizarding power would be enough for them to be supreme. But that was merely asking for their own destruction as Harry had pointed out. It wouldn't be immediate but it would come. Voldemort itched to just order his followers to breed but he wanted more than mindless followers breeding like rabbits with no care or attention given towards the child. No, they had to be educated as to why it was better to have more children and to nurture those children so that when the time came their loyalty would be absolute and they would be the fighters he required. He didn't want front line shock troops. Those types of troops didn't require thought, he wanted warriors, witches and wizards who were dangerous not just because of their power but because they knew how to use it in more than the traditional proscribed methods.

       And that had lead to today. Surprisingly Xatarass had agreed that this was necessary but the basilisk had also agreed that the two of them could go acromantula hunting later. Necessary doesn't mean nice, the basilisk had said before sinking back into sleep. It was probably safer that way since if the Dark Lord had to listen to the snake's commentary his forces would be very reduced before the meeting was over.

       His trusted followers, those with children had been instructed to bring them today. He'd told them that he wanted to give them instructions for the school year, which was true but that was a secondary goal. For the most part these were the children of his more intelligent followers, those who weren't suspected and a simple confusion spell would keep it so that they didn't really recognise their fellows. Because of this he wasn't too concerned that they would give his beloved problems during the school year. More likely the ones who would attempt to get in Harry's way would be the survivors of Malfoy's Rebellion and the Dark Lord had faith that his beloved's servants would deal with them.

       His Death Eater's had reported that their children were excited but understandably nervous about meeting their Lord, and some of his followers had gathered their courage to express their own concerns. Not at him meeting their children, it was a given that in due course he would be meeting every single child today to give them the mark and bring them into his service. No his followers were slightly concerned that he would mark some, the older ones today but he had assured them all that that would not be the case. While it was tempting, it was too dangerous to mark them and then send them into Dumbledore's presence and he'd said as much to those who had expressed their concerns. They had been abject in their thanks and his thoughtfulness towards their offspring had only increased their loyalty.

       Even so, while this was a necessary day and a necessary task, he anticipated that he would want to kill something before it was done.

       While he'd been thinking his followers had assembled their children then withdrawn towards the walls, some of them relaxed enough to speak quietly amongst themselves. Their children were just watching him, and he could smell their fear. Unlike the fear of the Malfoy Death Eaters or the muggles who had hurt his beloved, he didn't take much pleasure in this one. They should respect him, they _should_ fear him but it should not be mindless. Mindless fears only lead to people lashing out against that which they feared and he wanted obedience not rebellion. He smiled, or tried to, to reassure them.

       "Good morning, little ones," he said soothingly, casting a small warming charm to calm them.

       "My Lord," a few of the bold ones replied, bowing slightly towards him. Most of the others caught on to the obsequious and bowed as well.

       "My faithful," he began, nodding back towards them in a tiny gesture of respect. "I have called you here today, rather than pass the message via your parents because I do not wish any mistakes. While you are not yet marked as mine, there is no doubt as to who you will serve, and as such, I have a mission for you."

       "A mission?" one of the bold ones questioned.

       "Yes," Voldemort said. Perhaps this was the best way of giving out this information to the children. Make them believe it was a mission and at least some of it was but some of it was merely common sense. "Before I get to the details though, tell me which houses you are in."

       The children looked at him oddly and some of them he realised weren't yet at school age so he repeated the question, differently this time to put them at ease. "Who is in Hufflepuff?"

       Some of the children raised their hands, though there was some apprehension. He smiled again, "A good solid house," the Dark Lord murmured, loud enough to be heard. "I can expect you to be steadfast, loyal and dependable," he added with a small gesture towards those who had raised their hands. The bolder nodded and inclined their heads in acquiesce, while some looked relieved. Apparently they believed that he only saw favour in those of Slytherin.

       Internally Voldemort shrugged. Those of Slytherin were his traditional allies but they were also tied towards Malfoy and their ideals were not entirely aligned with his own. Slytherins were useful and would take their places in his forces, but they were expected to follow him. The other houses had more worth because they were not watched as closely.

       "And who here is in Ravenclaw?"

       Some more children raised their hands. This time there was no hesitation. "Another strong house, this time the house that holds my future strategists and charm creators," he gave them their greeting. "Slytherin?"

       Several raised their hands with pride and a touch of arrogance. It was expected but it would need to be removed and soon. Pride was acceptable though arrogance in untried children was not. "Ah, those who walk through the house of my youth and who are my most cunning servants, prepared to do anything to get the job done." Some of the children nodded happily and he knew they had no idea yet what his benediction would mean for them. "And finally, are there any Gryffindors?"

       Where there had been a smattering of representation for all previous houses this time the fear returned as only two to three hands rose slowly, all trembling. "The strong and the brave," the Serpent Lord said clearly. "And you, my followers are the truly brave, for you have seen through the lies and have found the truth that my path is only right one and have had the courage to follow it. Your job will perhaps be the hardest, to guide your fellows to the same understanding.

       "But that is a task for the future," he forestalled any questions, not that he was expecting any of them to dare to question him but he wanted to move on and didn't wish for any to take jabs at the others merely because of their houses. "To those who have yet to enter Hogwarts, let this be my first lesson to you. House does not matter. All have their place in my following and none are favoured over another. The roles they play are different but none are less important than another." A few of the children who would be entering Hogwarts in the next year or so nodded carefully, some of their faces openly showing their thoughts as they no doubt thought about what their parents had said. "I do have one question for you all though, you are all purebloods, I assume?"

       "Of course!" One of the older Slytherin children said and the Dark Lord suppressed a smile as he recognised them. Roland Tare, only child of Petar Tare, scion of the Tare Clan who had ties back to Eastern Europe, and more importantly someone who, though a widower, had a new, much younger wife.

       "Of course you are," Voldemort murmured. "How many of you have no brothers or sisters?" He launched into what was the important part of today's plan.

       Approximately half the hands raised, and Voldemort suppressed a start of surprise. He knew the number was large, he didn't expect it to be quite that large. "How many have one brother or sister?"

       About a third of the hands rose this time and he moved on. "How many with two?" A few hands rose. By now he could feel the curiosity coming from the full Death Eater's who were watching and he wondered if any of them would catch on when he explained to their children. He was not going to order his followers to breed but at least some would hopefully take the hint - and some of them would be these children. "How many with more?" Less than one eighth of the hands rose, but he had expected nothing more at this point in time.

       "How many of you know a mudblood or a blood traitor?" He asked. It was a loaded question and he fully expected most of them to answer it with the affirmative, and then to further answer that they knew a red haired blood traitor. It didn't really matter if they were all thinking of the same person or family. That family would illustrate his point perfectly.

       This time, as expected most of the school going children raised their hands. "Those who don't know one don't worry, you will no doubt meet them at Hogwarts, but for those of you who do know them, I have another question, how many brothers and sisters do they have? It's okay if you don't know the exact answer, just in general, how many do they have? None?"

       A few hands rose tentatively and he suppressed a smile. "One?" There were a few more affirmatives but most of the children had not indicated the affirmative yet. "Two?" About a quarter of the hands rose and the Dark Lord was surprised. He'd have been willing to put money down for pretty much all of them picking out the Weasley's but apparently not. It didn't matter since two children were sufficient for his explanation. "Three, or more?" The rest of the hands rose and he nodded, gesturing for them to lower their hands as he continued. "Why do you think that is? Why do you think they have more children?" He asked the loaded question.

       "The lessers always whelp more children," Roland shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, though he maintained enough control not to be condescending in the presence of his Lord. "They start younger and breed more, probably because sexual favours are the norm for them and the only way they can get anything."

       The Dark Lord resisted the urge to laugh. This one would not doubt be outraged when he learned that trading on sexual favours was universal and it just depended on the individual as to how discrete and how good they were at it. Roland's new step mother was probably one of the better women at it, to have married his father.

       "Ah I suppose I'd better set up some good educational facilities to train the lessers when they come into their power," Voldemort said in a relaxed tone.

       "My Lord?" Roland asked.

       "In a few generations, while the pure bloods continue to marry amongst themselves and have one or two children only, those you deem the lessers will have had three to four children each; three to four _magical_ children. They don't outnumber the old blood yet but they will. And since I will need magical followers to take up arms, I will just have to train them in the proper way."

       " _Never!_ " Roland jumped to his feet, his face flushed with anger.

       "And how will you stop that?" Blood red eyes locked onto Roland's and he shuddered but didn't back down. "Are you three to four times more powerful than them?"

       The boy's anger drained away but his face remained flushed, this time with embarrassment.

       "I'll take your silence as a no," the Serpent Lord said easily, almost soothingly. Several of the parents were listening closely to the conversation and he'd seen some of them start and nod with understanding as the obvious conclusions were drawn. Some though still had an air of confusion as did most of the children.

       "Let me tell you what is important Roland and I suggest you all remember these words. Blood, money, prestige... all has its place but it isn't important. Power is. Only power is important. Money can be gained by power as can prestige. And without power, money and prestige can be lost very quickly.

       "Blood, well blood is a constant. It is true that those born as Mudbloods will always be mudbloods, however if they have power, then they may achieve money and prestige and then there is no difference at all between them and the old."

       "Yes there is!"

       "Oh," Voldemort was amused. "How?"

       "They will always be a mudblood."

       "Yet they live in the wizarding world, they hold jobs, have friends, maintain their livelihoods, and their children are educated here and they then build their lines into those of power. In some cases they are the ones giving you orders, so how are they different?

       "They are not. And they are no different because they have power and the will to use that power. Make no mistake; those with the power and the will to use it are those who will rule. And those who will rule in the future are those who have the numbers to rule. The old lines are becoming interbreed and inter-related to the point where finding acceptable marriages is almost impossible. Who will you marry, who will you wed when there is no one not related by blood? Or will you interbreed further and risk squibs?"

       Roland shuddered and the Dark Lord could see his mind working as he thought about his relatives and who he was related to. He, like most of those present was a cousin to most of the others. Sometimes second or third cousin but related never the less.

       "In the not too distant further," Voldemort continued, "the choice for the so called old blood will be clear and they are the following: do not breed and let the estates and wealth go to another related family, interbreed to a point that is dangerous and risk squibs, or breed with one of the lessers, who by that stage will outnumber the old bloods in power and in numbers."

       "So you are telling us to accept the blood traitors and mudbloods?" One of the Death Eater's spat.

       Voldemort looked over and was interested in the reactions of his other followers. Two or three nodded at the statement and moved to back the speaker, Alcander Zatony while the rest looked at him, Zatony, as if he hadn't a thought in his head. Roland, young though he was, had sat down again, a very thoughtful expression on his youthful face, an expression that changed to chagrined understanding before he hunkered down, listening but no longer speaking, converted to his Lord's beliefs.

       "No," Voldemort said easily, making no gestures. Alcander probably thought he had the upper hand and he saw no reason to debase him of that belief just yet. "I'm telling you to accept the power they have. I'm telling you to accept that it is power that is important, not anything to do with birth. Power is power. How are you going to stop a muggleborn if they challenge you for your house?"

       Alcander spluttered while the Dark Lord looked on, his gaze showing nothing but calm assurance.

       "No mudblood would dare challenge me," Alcander eventually ground out through clenched teeth.

       Voldemort laughed his amusement real and unfeigned. "What's going to stop them? What's going to stop a so called blood traitor from challenging you? Your power? Your prestige, your position? You are adequately powerful Zatony but let us be honest here, your position is based on history, not on ability. You are nothing special and you can be replaced by anyone of about the same power. So why shouldn't a so called mudblood or muggleborn take up your position if they have the will?"

       For a moment it looked like Alcander would attack Voldemort and he felt a small surge of disappointment when the wizard mastered himself and instead of drawing his wand to attack he instead stepped forward, reaching up to remove his white mask.

       "So the past, all that you have proclaimed to stand for means nothing?"

       "An interesting statement, Zatony and one I'm rather surprised to hear you utter but I am pleased, because it means that my insistence that my Death Eater's do not randomly rush into anything, that they think about the best way to achieve my goals has paid off. A younger you, would have attacked me and that would have been your death but the question shows... maturity.

       "What I have proclaimed is still meaningful Zatony but what is pureblood without power? It is nothing. It has no future and in its present it clings to the past as justification for its being. It seems to me though, and you will forgive me for paraphrasing someone who is wise in their understanding, that you have forgotten a basic premise. I wish wizards to rule, there is no question of that, but for wizards to rule, there must be wizards. Your old families, with their pure blood and single child cannot rule. They are asking for their own destruction because in time they will not be. And when they are gone, who will rule? Those you call blood traitors and those who have been brought into our society but not truly baptised into power, the muggleborn's. It is understandable that they bear no desire to rule the muggles so I do not blame them. They need guidance, to be shown the way and that is what I will do but do not make the mistake of thinking that the old bloods should rule. Those with power should rule. That is the truth you should embrace. Those with the will and ability and from what I can see, the will of some of those you name blood traitors is stronger. Certainly they seem to be thinking of the future more."

       "Malfoy was right," one of the Death Eater's standing behind Zatony muttered under their breath.

       Voldemort raised one eyebrow "I take it that is a belief held by all of you?"

       "It is, my Lord," Zatony said fiercely, standing without fear. "The mudbloods and blood traitors cannot rule, they do not have the ability and they should be destroyed before their corruption touches us all."

       Voldemort cast a shield charm over the children before any of the new rebels could use them. It also not so incidentally isolated Zatony and the other's spawn from the others in case they tried anything. "Curse breakers such as yourself are hard to find Alcander, I will miss your services," the Dark Lord said, before with a flash of power he snapped his wand up, casting Avada Kedavra three times.

       No shield could absorb a curse of that power, not when it was uttered by the Dark Lord but it did deflect one curse. The two who had backed Zatony fell soundlessly, their shield shattered and dispersed with their death but their leader didn't mourn their loss, instead he acted, raising his wand to try to cast his own curse. It was of course too late. Voldemort had seen the curse deflected with a follow up gesture that appeared slow he flicked his wand back, casting the killing curse again.

       "No!" The cry came from the children as they watched their parents executed by their lord and as Alcander fell, Voldemort turned to look them in the eye.

       Another gesture separated the newly created orphans from the others and as the Dark Lord returned to his throne he fixed them with a look that made most believe he could see into their souls. All of the new rebel's children were of Hogwarts age; they were old enough now to make their choice.

       "Power," he said softly. "Power is all that is important. Not blood, not money, not pride; power and the ability to be present in the future. You children now have a choice. You can either swear your allegiance to me or you can follow your parents, while not yet of age in our society, you are old enough to make this choice." Voldemort sat back, watching them with unblinking eyes as they considered.

       The girl, Galatea, stared at the body of her father, her eyes wide but not unseeing. With a gulp she looked back towards the serpent lord, seeing his calm assurance. "Power," she whispered.

       "Yes child, it is all that is important; power and the will to use it."

       "Will you teach me to use power?"

       "Those in my service are taught to use power."

       With one last glance towards the body of her father, Galatea nodded. "Then I will swear my loyalty," she said, kneeling.

       Voldemort nodded, removing the shield charm from her that had kept her contained. Galatea didn't even flinch but remained kneeling before her Lord. "What about you others?" He asked, looking towards the other two.

       "No," one of them whispered while the other was too lost in fear to be really thinking. Voldemort shook his head sadly. It was sad to lose the young but sacrifices were necessary. He didn't bother question further but merely dropped their shields and cast Avada Kedavra again, dropping the two remaining children painlessly and soundlessly before he vanished the bodies. He suspected some of those still here were only feigning but he would hunt them down in time. Power was all that was important and his true followers would know that.

       "Now that, that is over, those who remain are my true followers, and are those who understand. I do not wish you to breed like rabbits," Voldemort said, speaking both to the children and the remaining Death Eaters. "But to rule, there must be wizards and thus there must be those who can wield power in the future. That is what I want you to consider and act upon though I do not need mindless drones. Children must be raised and must be nurtured in their power; they must not be created simply to maintain numbers."

       Around the room, the Death Eater's nodded while some of the older girls also showed their understanding. The Dark Lord knew they would be more than mere brood mares but they would consider his words and they would see to it that they bore children to be loved, and raised in the knowledge of power, raised to know that wizards and witches were superior.

       "For those of you who are going to Hogwarts," Voldemort continued, looking back towards the gathered children, "I will not mark you. Dumbledore is too fastidious in checking, but I will now give you this warning - anyone hurting Harry Potter will die by my hand, no matter how loyal you are. Harry Potter belongs to me, his mind, his body and his death." The Dark Lord smiled at the thought. Oh yes, the Shadow Lord belonged to him, in so many more ways than most of his Death Eater's believed and certainly in more ways that their children could imagine. However this was the easiest way to explain what Malfoy had called his obsession. It achieved his goals even though it hid the truth. "At the moment, I want his school life to be sickenly normal, so that he will live each moment wondering when I will strike. You will make that happen," he said to the children. "And that is your mission. I do not ask you to deceive him or to attempt to be his friend. I doubt you could deceive him, I merely order that you do not antagonise him or show hostility."

       "So that is our mission, my Lord? To make Harry's school life normal?"

       "Yes. If there are others who antagonise or seek to hurt Harry Potter, the Malfoy Death Eaters for example, do nothing against them but report their presence to me. I will deal with them," he added the instruction and was pleased to see some of the Slytherin's nod. No doubt they were expecting to be approached soon. "If they threaten you, then..." Voldemort chuckled. "Why don't you let Snape and Dumbledore deal with them?" he suggested with an evil grin.

       A couple of the older children snorted at his joke though they understood. It was, after all, pretty obvious.

       The Dark Lord waved his hand. "Go now," he instructed, giving his permission for the children and their parents to withdraw. The children began returning to their parents and with a nod of permission from the Dark Lord, they began apparating out as he eased the wards to temporarily allow their magical signatures to pass through. One of the red masked Death Eater's stepped up to Galatea, placing their hand on her shoulder. She looked up from where she was but otherwise remained kneeling.

       Voldemort nodded his permission. Mikhail would look after her well, and would report back if her loyalty was fake.

       After what seemed an age the Dark Lord was alone.

       :Possibly a bit harsh killing the parents in front of the children,: the shadows remarked idly  into the silence.

       "Did you mark those who were smart enough to remain silent?"

       :Not that there were that many,: the shadows laughed, :though Galatea will be making her decision in the next few days we imagine. She knows what you represent but she will need to work through her fear.:

       The Serpent Lord shrugged. "Either she will or she won't," he said. "Mikhail will keep watch. I am surprised though," Voldemort mused. "It appears Malfoy wasn't quite as thorough in going through my forces for those who sympathised than I believed. How are Lucius' dear wife and son?" he asked suddenly.

       The shadows gave the impression of annoyance. :Someone... probably Xeoaph has tipped her off. While the light she is using is not pure, it is enough to keep us away.:

       "Ah..." Voldemort said in understanding. "Narcissa was always resourceful. In many ways she was better witch than her husband. No matter... Since she has not come to me her choice is obvious and when she raises her hand against me, she will be obliterated."

 


	16. Learning to Fly

Weapon   
Chapter 16 Learning to Fly

===

       Harry stood at the edge of the quidditch pitch, his bare feet sunk a little into the surrounding sands. He wriggled his toes, feeling the small grains scour the skin between each one before he brought his attention back to the present. He felt...

       He felt good. He always felt good when in his animagus form for the simple fact that the transformation had an unexpected benefit. Fawkes couldn't track him. The phoenix tattoo of the Order was still there slightly but the conflicting energy that was his animagus form meant that the phoenix couldn't contact him and couldn't monitor him. In this form he was free! It was a freedom though he was careful not to enjoy too much of, lest someone became suspicious. And it was only because he transformed into what he did that the phoenix was not already suspicious.

       Harry remembered the moment Fawkes had realized he was 'out of touch'. He'd been in Dumbledore's office, going over a few things when the fire bird had asked him to transform, which he had dutifully done. That had then lead to a few very sharp looks from the bird before he'd ruffled his feathers in annoyance and settled back on his perch indicating that Harry should transform back.

       :I can't talk to you in that form,: the phoenix had said when he'd resumed his human form.

       "What?"

       :I can't talk to you in that form,: Fawkes had repeated. :There is too much interference from the energies. I think in time I will be able to but not at the moment which is a shame.:

       Harry had been very careful to keep the surge of elation from his hidden self-suppressed and had done his best to simulate gentle confusion. "A shame?" he'd eventually asked to cover the growing silence between them. Deep inside though he could feel his true self celebrating and making plans to be in animagus form as much as was practicable.

       :I was going to teach you how to fly,: the fire bird replied. :Now you will have to learn it the hard way... And without a tail, it really is going to be the hard way!: Fawkes seemed to laugh a little at the last and Harry received a mental impression that had something to do with flying and the role that a birds tail played in keeping them stable.

       A moment later his mind produced a very unsubtle image of himself, face planted firmly into the ground with his wings spread around him. Oh yes, flying might not be quite as easy as it seemed.

       So that's why he was here, at the edge of the quidditch pitch in his animagus form, preparing to give himself his first flying lesson. He wore only a woolen knitted form fitting suit that let him move freely but left his now clawed hands and feet bare and had space down the back for his wings to sprout through. He'd taken to wearing it, or having it at least partially formed from the shadows since the day he'd recovered from this transformation. For some reason, it had felt right and while it should be stifling hot in the middle of summer, really didn't feel that bad.

       He looked around, looking up at the deserted stands. Fawkes had done his best to describe what he thought would be necessary to make the adjustments to flying without a tail, but the fire bird's explanations, were to a human... vague. He spoke of air currents and eddies and of changing the angles of his primary feathers to compensate. Most of it had gone over Harry's head though he had concentrated and tried to understand. In the end, though Fawkes had once again ruffled his own feathers and shook his head, sending a few sparks down on to the stone floor of Dumbledore's office before he'd given the best bit of advice Harry had heard so far. :For you to learn to fly, it will require practice... and lots of it so I suggest you get to it.:

       And with that as the final word on advice on how to fly, the phoenix had made the arrangements so that Harry wouldn't be required for most of today and had seen to it that the quidditch pitch would be deserted as well, and the fire bird had then sent him off to practice. There had been at least enough sympathy there for Harry to realise that his first few attempts were not going to be pretty. The image of himself, flat on his face was unlikely to be fantasy.

       He sighed, looking up at the goal rings. That should be his first goal. Flying up to one of them. But exactly how did he co-ordinate everything to get up there?

       If he transformed fully into his animagus form then there would be no worries. That particular form, a fully magical being didn't fly, it just willed itself where it wanted to go. He'd learnt that very quickly in the few times he'd managed to steal enough time and privacy to manifest his full form. He'd only done that once he'd been cleared to practice in private and only when Fawkes had been at ease. The Order only knew about his corporal transformation, they didn't know he could go all the way and he wanted to keep it that way. It was bad enough that he had an animagus form that... well transcended every wizard and witch in existence. He really didn't want to think what the Order might try if they knew he could go further, could outstrip them all even with their combined power. There hadn't been much backlash to his abilities but he'd been surrounded by those who were accepting of power. The rest of the wizarding community would not be nearly as understanding.

       That wasn't the question now though. Harry shook his head bemused as he stepped out on to the grass, idly fanning his wings. Even with the little bit of movement he could feel the resistance of the air, feel his wings pulling against it and the magic working to make the muscles of his back and chest far stronger than they could ever be. He knew that flying was more than just flapping his wings. One of the times he'd transformed he had actually wanted to see what they could do and had flapped as hard as he could. It had been an effective way of moving himself and furniture but had not granted him flight. And he'd spent a good part of the next hour moving everything back to where it should be - after he'd picked himself out of the wall he'd driven himself into. Oh yes, flying was far more than just flapping his wings which was why he had listened to Fawkes even though nothing had been really clear.

       :Would you like some help, Master?:

       The voice came from inside him and Harry recognized it as Xaos'. He welcomed the new presence with a burst of love that was returned as a little illusion of a serpent appeared wrapped around one of his forearms. He felt the basilisk tattoo tickle over his chest too as the serpent rose out of the depths of his mind where he had been hiding since his confrontation with Fawkes. No one was going to disturb him for at least a few hours when he expected at least that one of the house elves would bring him some lunch - and not so incidentally check that he hadn't accidentally knocked himself out in his attempts to fly, so it was safe enough for his internal protector to manifest himself.

       "I'm glad to see you, Xaos," Harry said aloud, raising his arm to look into the eyes of the illusionary basilisk on his arm, "and I am especially glad to see that there has been no damage from Fawkes, but you're a serpent, how can you help me to fly?"

       The little basilisk brushed up against his cheek in a fond movement, his tongue flickering all the time. :I know how to fly,: the serpent said.

       "But you're a snake!" Harry objected.

       :But I still know how to fly,: Xaos said firmly.

       Harry frowned. "I will grant that a basilisk is created through hatching a chicken's egg under a toad and that as such a basilisk may retain the instinct of a chicken and therefore the knowledge of how to fly, but Xaos, you are a pure basilisk, born of basilisks. Your relation to something that may know how to fly goes back a long way and many generations."

       :That is true, Master, my body is pure serpent but my soul remembers how to fly,: Xaos said with quiet dignity that was accompanied by a flash of memory of soaring through the sky on silent wings.

       Harry blinked, feeling the wind pressed against his wings in the memory and the surety as he made tiny adjustments to each feather unconsciously or rather as Xaos made tiny adjustments to each feather, but more importantly Harry couldn't miss who he was flying towards in the memory. He was flying towards himself!

       He let out a long sigh, "How?"

       His question was answered with another flash of memory, and this time he was flying over the lake but there was not even a whisper of wind and the lake surface was flat, reflecting the sky and the surrounding mountains like a mirror, reflecting the almost glowing form of a snowy owl back into his eyes.

       "Hedwig..."

       :Yes, Master?:

       Harry wished that Xaos had decided to physically manifest himself but the little basilisk had decided to be discrete, something he was thankful for but regretted now as he could not hug the serpent in sheer relief but after a moment his joy faded and he remembered the fear and the uncertainty he'd felt at his induction into the Order. He'd risked Hedwig in such a manner?

       :No, you did not Master. You risked me, Xaos, in such a manner because there was no other choice but there was also no risk Master. I told you that then, I will tell you again, so long as you back me against the phoenix, even privately, then he cannot dislodge me. There are only three powers that could now even attempt to dislodge me.:

       "What are they?" Harry demanded as the words soothed his guilt. They couldn't remove it entirely, because no matter what he just wouldn't accept that but he would try to move onwards.

       :The Serpent Lord could try to call to me but since I want to stay, and so long as you wanted me, I would remain. He is the King but you are my host. Your servants are another power that could attempt to dislodge me. I enjoy speaking with them and while they down play their part in hiding me against Fawkes, I know that took much power and I would be naive not to speculate that they could possibly have enough power to remove me. And the third power that could remove me Master, is you. If you truly do not wish my presence then we would separate and that would be that.:

       "I'm not going to want you gone," Harry said confidently.

       :I know,: Xaos replied chuckling. :Now, about flying,: the little serpent said quite eagerly. : Firstly, I will need a good look at your wings,: he added sliding back down Harry's arm and over his shoulder, quite deliberately growing slightly so as to hook his illusionary tail over one wing so that the little serpent could look carefully at the leading edges of each wing. :Master, please stretch your wings out.:

       Harry did as requested, stretching each wing out to its full extent, suppressing a giggle as the serpent illusion moved over them, ruffling not so much as a single feather barb in his examination. : Well your wings are narrower and more pointed than my wings were but that's not too bad, it should allow you more manoeuvrability and you can probably use some magic to enhance that,: Xaos gave the commentary on his examination. : And you've got some very strong leading feathers, which should mean that an adjustment to any of them will make a small adjustment in flight but that's something you can learn later, how each feather can be used to make things easier. What I really don't understand Master, is why Fawkes insisted you don't have steering feathers,:

       "I don't have a tail," Harry said.

       :True,: the serpent agreed, :but your scapulars and secondary feathers close to your body are very long and appear to be doubled and reinforced.:

       Harry felt the little basilisk give a few of them a phantom tug and he realized that those feathers were almost double the length of any other feather and almost touched the grass.

       :Given that there appears to be some extra musculature around them at their base,: Xaos continued as Harry belatedly remembered to pay attention, :I believe those feathers will form you a tail and will be used for steering. But that doesn't disprove what I said earlier. A bit of magic would also probably help but isn't strictly necessary though if you can, when you make your transformation, try to focus on making those feathers fuller as that will help.:

       Harry nodded but the little basilisk appeared satisfied and came back around to face him. :Okay, first things first. To get off the ground, master, you will have to concentrate on flapping your wings DOWN, which will require you to either tilt slightly or to make your wings parallel to the ground, though remember the angle will dictate the rate of climb. Fully parallel will make for an almost vertical rise while perpendicular will do little more than buffet you and whatever is in the vicinity. At the same time though Master, you must remember those tail feathers. They will be used like a rudder to give you direction and should be facing straight down when you are attempting to gain altitude. Once you reach the height you want, then your wing beats will depend on what you wish to do. For direct forward flight then it would be best to attempt to level out your body horizontally and just flap your wings towards the ground with a slight tilt forward and then to use your tail as steering. For very quick turns, it's easiest if you fold in one wing slightly so that it's not working as hard. The differential will make you turn much sharper, and this is especially true when you use your wing tips, which are much more pointed than my owl wings. This will allow you much more subtle control over turns. They will also help when swooping to guide you. The points will be extended back past your body and will be catching the air as you swoop and an adjustment to any feather will give you steering control here.:

       Harry blinked as he took in Xaos' explanations. The basilisk really did know how to fly and wasn't concerned about trying to explain air currents and eddies. He made it seem much simpler than Fawkes had.

       :Next master is reading the air.:

       The black hair boy choked back a laugh. He'd thought too soon apparently.

       :So long as you remain close to the ground here, there will not be much wind to distract you and your first few flights should be relatively simple. But as you rise higher, or in other areas there are many things that can disturb your flight. The wind, for example. Where possible try to fly with it. Flying into the teeth of a howling gale requires quite a bit of energy and control to maintain your course. I know you can see the swirls of magic in the world when you try master, the air is rather similar. There are swirls and patterns there that if you try to fight against, they can be painful. Once you get into the air you will sense them, I think, and you will be able to work with them. They should be taken as a guide though, and not as an absolute. Sometimes, you just have to fly into the teeth of the howling gale.:

       "Okay," Harry agreed. "Is there anything else?"

       The black serpent shook its head. :Just remember that everything works together, master. You are a good flyer on a broom I know and that should help you sense the air a bit, but the mechanics of flight are different under your own power. So now we begin.:

       "Now we begin," Harry echoed briefly closing his eyes.

===

       Elliot looked over at his companion. He'd been more than a little surprised when his usual Auror contact had asked to meet him again. After the fiasco with the werewolf he'd assumed that they were no longer talking to him but they'd sent him a message to meet in the usual place. So here he was, nursing a pot of muggle beer as the Auror in front of him did the same.

       "So..?" Elliot began.

       "Indeed," the Auror Baross said. "This is off the record," he added forcefully and Elliot just nodded. While there probably was something important, sometimes the Auror just needed to vent and while he could be said to be a risky proposition, he'd given his word that if asked not to publish he would not. Which is the only reason the Auror Captain trusted him. Of course, what was not published was often of use to the Order.

       "So, what's up?" Elliot asked.

       "That werewolf," Baross ground out.

       "The Death Eater?"

       "Yes... the one who practically waltzed out of custody... And if that comes out before we are ready, you'll be in the deepest pit in Azkaban before you can blink."

       Elliot merely nodded. At least that explained why there had been no news about the werewolf in the past few days. Escaped... it hardly seemed possible. "How did it happen?" he asked quietly. "Or rather, who was it?"

       Baross reached into his Muggle coat and brought out a picture. "You probably recognize him," he said with heavy irony.

       Elliot looked at the picture and he did recognise it. "That's the guy from the Atrium," he said handing it back. The picture was nothing special but showed clearly the masked man, walking confidently down the corridors of the Auror Headquarters with the young werewolf following in his wake. It seemed incongruous that the man should be so open in what was obvious hostile territory, but he didn't seem concerned and moved with great confidence and poise. The werewolf looked more worried.

       "Yes, we know that much. And that's the problem. He apparated into the Headquarters, knocked out the guards and then walked calmly through the corridors, that were on high alert, avoiding every guard before he released the werewolf and then strolled through the corridors to the command offices and floo'd out to one of our few Muggle locations and apparated. And believe me we looked for traces of magic, which severely interrupted quite a bit of the Muggle government. The Minister had to talk to the Prime Minister and the Queen especially and we found absolutely nothing."

       "That... that is impressive," Elliot said.

       "Impressive it might be, however that level of training isn't easy to come by. Whoever it is had to have Auror training and that level of power... The list of wizards with that level of power is very short and given how quickly he went through the wards, he has to have had insider help. And to top it off, the werewolves brother has disappeared."

       "So what do you do now?"

       "Now?" Baross sighed, rolling his eyes. "Now we launch on a fruitless search for a few weeks until things calm down and then I'll let you know when it can be published and we can get back to fighting this war."

       "Oh ta," Elliot said. "So now I'm only good for publishing those stories you don't care about?"

       Baross snorted. "My contact with you has always been for my benefit and sometimes to yours. We've both known that."

       "I know, and I accepted that because you are a ranking Auror and as a contact you are second to none, but why give me the throwaway stories?"

       Something in Baross seemed to snap and he glared at Elliot. "You want to know why we didn't tell you about the werewolf we captured?" the Auror captain snarled. "It's simple, Elliot, because you think too much!"

       "I what!" The reporter objected.

       "You. Think. Too. Much." The answer was repeated. "You would have been all, 'Oh oh oh, what if the werewolves side with the Dark Lord? What if they do this? What if they do that?' Well, here's a tip for you Elliot, so what!"

       Elliot ground his teeth again as he looked over at his long time Auror contact. "If they join the Dark Lord it would make this war so much harder."

       "No," came the denial. "It makes it easier. It would be a chance to exterminate them once and for all. So what if they join the Dark Lord, it doesn't matter, most of them already serve him, just they are too weak to declare it officially and the Ministry is still dithering, thanks to your buddies in the Order, on declaring Werewolves anathema and killable on sight."

       Elliot fell back, dazed. When he'd predicted that the response to Wilbur's article would be bad, he'd never envisaged this bad. And when his long term Auror contact was advocating the wholesale extermination of those who should be their allies, then things were very much out of balance.

       "Yeah, your response now just confirms it. That's why we didn't tell you. This war is going to be bloody, we don't need factions. Either people are going to be with the Ministry or with the Dark Lord. The sooner we get that settled, the better and the easier it will be to fight."

       It was Elliot's turn to glare. "Do not ever think that I am disloyal just because I do not want to kill anything that may disagree with the Ministry. It is not a sin to think for yourself, especially with some of the foolery that the Ministry is invoking at present.

       "Everyone will fight in this war, but I think you will agree that ridding the world of the Dark Lord is more important that pursuing the human-centric view that the Ministry is pushing. That's a view more suited to the Dark Lord and you know it.

       "Besides, while this is blackmail... you don't really think the Order is going to let Harry fight just for you and for the ideals of the Ministry?" Elliot chuckled. "Apart from the fact that Dumbledore won't let that happen, I can't see Sirius Black allowing it either and while Harry is of age magically, he does listen to his Godfather and to the best Defense against the Dark Art's teacher he had - a werewolf by the name of Remus Lupin. You want to declare war against the werewolves and you will probably be losing the only one who can really fight the Dark Lord."

       "Yet it was the Order who have pursued a treaty with the Vampires and you need the Ministry to make that into a reality. Same for those negotiations I know you are holding with the Goblins."

       "No, we don't," Elliot said brutally. "If it gets out that the _Ministry_ stood in the way of a treaty that would help fight You-Know-Who, how long do you think the Minister will remain in office? Personally I'd give it about three to four days which would be three to four too long, which is why the Order was so frustrated with your handling of the Death Eater Werewolf. You are right; I would have and did say everything you thought I would because it is my belief that you have now practically guaranteed the werewolves' loyalty to the Dark Lord.

       "He may not attack on a full moon, in fact he probably won't, but you know as well as I do that a werewolf's senses are better than a humans at any time, especially if they were made a werewolf at a young age. I swear Remus can hear a flobberworm sliding at the far end of the castle when he wants and it is that power and those abilities that you and the Ministry have just thrown away without a thought because it suits your world view.

       "We need allies, not gifts to give to the Dark Lord, gifts he doesn't need." Elliot sat back with a poof and took a long drink of the bitter Muggle beer, watching the Auror over the lip of the mug.

       Baross had a thoughtful expression on his face, but after a moment he shook himself, and Elliot sighed internally. It would take something more than just his explanation for some to accept. They would understand in time...

       He hoped.

===

       Draco lay on his back, looking up at the canopy of his bed. He needed to rest but he was too hyped to close his eyes. It almost felt as if he'd nicked the snitch from between the Gryffindorks fingers but about a thousand times better. At least the buzz did. The exhaustion plaguing his limbs was also real. He couldn't sleep yet though; he had too much to think about, too much to work out before he could succumb to the rest his body so desperately wanted.

       First and foremost was his mother. Followed very closely by working out what exactly he'd done today. Or maybe the two of them went together, because his mother hadn't seemed surprised at his actions and had just packed him into bed without too much concern. Which would indicate she knew what that devastating but draining attack was.

       The day had started out usually enough. He'd had a light breakfast and done some sparring against some of the pre-set targets his mother had always set up in the dueling room. Then he'd retired to his room to review a few of the advanced charms she'd assigned him to learn. They were charms he could barely perform, but Narcissa had assured him that he would be able to do them in due course, once he could fully access his power. She'd said something about him coming of age and accepting his heritage and if Draco was truthful with himself, the charms had been becoming easier over the summer. But they weren't coming easily enough yet to be useful. And he was looking forward to the looks on many faces when he casually erected what was one of the only known charms capable of deflecting the Cruciatus curse, a charm that required near sorcerer like understanding of magic to power it, or when he pre-formed other offensive charms. The three unforgivable curses were deemed that because of their ability to disrupt magical society and because they were performable by almost everyone. The charms his mother was teaching him were performed only by the most powerful and most skilled of wizards and while they were capable of great disruption to society, the rarity of wizards able to cast them meant they were regulated to listing as merely highly dangerous and almost unperformable charms. His mother had worn a particularly mystic smile as she'd explained that to him.

       Still he wasn't yet capable of them and after reviewing them and practicing a little, practice which pulled tantalizingly on his power but didn't manifest the charms, he'd changed into his daytime formal robes. Today, his Mother had organized a luncheon with their peers. Peers who for the most part were loyal to the former Dark Lord. He'd decided he would never call the man he used to revere a Dark Lord any further. The man may have been once but now lacked the vision and the will to claim that title. He had become corrupted. Despite that though, the young Malfoy still assigned full respect to the Serpent Lord. He may no longer be a Dark Lord but he was still a wizard of formidable power, even if his vision had become corrupted. That was one of the things his Mother had taught him. Do not underestimate a foe. It was better to be sure of their abilities and for those you did not know, overestimating their strength and defeating them easily was far better than falling yourself. They would get only one chance.

       The luncheon had been tense. The Malfoy's had known that their guests were Death Eaters loyal to the Serpent Lord, their guests had known that they were the last leaders of Lucius' Rebellion, but apart from that they were also all part of the same social group, and had often held parties and luncheons such as this. Refusal to attend would have been odd and they all were far too experienced to appear out of place. And that had lead to a very tense lunch, with each word weighed and every gesture measured for intent. He'd itched to hex the lot of them and had been amazed by how calm his mother had been. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn she was one of those witches without a thought in her head by the way she'd preened and chattered with those he knew to be deadly enemies. For her, this had simply been a luncheon between old friends and there was nothing amiss... at least, that is what it had looked like.

       After the last of them had floo'd out, she'd dropped the vacant yet pleasing expression and her eyes had narrowed in concentration as she'd reviewed the conversations. "That was enlightening," Narcissa had muttered to her son before looking at Draco properly and giving him instructions to change again so that they could continue their training here. Of course he'd asked what had been so fascinating but she'd promised to tell him over dinner, saying that she wanted him to complete his training today so that they could discuss things without him being distracted, but apparently the Serpent Lord had had ordered quite an odd meeting for his followers and while everyone at the luncheon had been circumspect, some hints had been dropped as to everyone's true allegiance. Even so, he never thought he'd say this but considering what his mother had put him through after the luncheon, he was more than happy now to face every Serpent Lord loyal Death Eater over a meal about a hundred times over. The shifting eyes and stances and the ability to read the room was essential and had been tiring but there was a reassurance there that everything was how it should be.

       And that feeling was most definitely lacking from the afternoon.

       Draco resolutely pushed away the fear tinged anger that rose at the thought, directed towards his Mother. He had to work this out rationally, no matter how much he thought she had attempted to kill him because unless there was something else there, something he wasn't seeing then the next time they met they would be enemies and while a part of him whispered that everyone was the enemy, the greater part of himself warned caution, this was his Mother, she would protect him always. It was confusing and sickening and thus he had to work it out.

       He'd been pleased, inordinately so when Narcissa had told him that he'd have to fight, that he would be taking a direct position in battle to bring down the corrupted Dark Lord. And the training she'd given him all summer had just reinforced that. She trusted him enough to be able to fight, trusted him enough that he could take care of his own problems and he had fought some very dangerous beasts during his training, fought and subdued or killed them outright. Today though, today she'd just sent him into the dueling room with nothing more than the usual 'Be careful' and from then on he'd been in a battle for his life!

       Today's enemy had been highly dangerous, very fast and extremely motivated to kill him. It was one of the creatures they had deemed a sure kill - as in one of those creatures that had a method of killing that did not fail - one hit, one kill. For example wizards had Avada Kedavra, nundu had their breath, a basilisk their eyes, a dementor their kiss, a werewolf their bite, which while the last two were non-lethal, they would end his aspirations to become the next Dark Lord forever. His training this summer had referenced those creatures and they had discussed methods for dealing with them when the usual avoidance was not either appropriate or possible but for the most part his training had been geared towards fighting other wizards. This wasn't the Triwizard Tournament, it wasn't a game, and he had to be ready. But even in training, precautions had been taken.

       Today they'd been absent and it was only because of some unknown attack that he'd pulled off, an unknown attack that had left him drained and powerless that he'd survived.

       Draco remembered he'd been happy when he'd identified the foe for today's battle. That was before he realized the usual safe guards were absent. He'd been expecting to have to fight serpents at some stage. The corrupted Dark Lord was also a Serpent Lord and his familiar, Nagini, was well known to be a very potent serpent. Further to that, the Serpent Lord had the animagus form of a great basilisk and through his affinity to reptiles it was rumored that he was never unguarded, that there was always a basilisk with him. That belief rang true to Draco, and he thought it went deeper but he couldn't prove it. It didn't matter though, sooner or later he was going to have to face and fight serpents, including basilisks and he had been pleased that his mother had had the foresight to see that he was trained in how to fight and kill them. Except THAT training was meant to be theoretical, because there was no safe way of practicing. At least that's what Narcissa had said when they had discussed the issue.

       She'd obviously changed her mind since somehow, for his training she'd found a 30 foot long basilisk that was as fast and as vicious as anything he'd ever encountered. The instant he'd entered the room, he had known something was wrong. The taste of the air was somehow different; darker and more dangerous.

       He'd only had a moment to consider this before there had been an angry hiss from the monster serpent and he'd felt a chill pass through his soul as he identified what he was facing. By then it was too late to storm out and demand an explanation since the room's containment warding was active and so he'd done the only thing he could, made a desperate dive for cover while running his mind back over the strategy discussions he'd had with his Mother about how to fight a basilisk.

       First and foremost was to not look it in the eye or into the reflection of its eye, but gazing upon it with astral eyes was permitted though dangerous because it left the body motionless and unprotected. Second was that a basilisk's scales were harder than armor and provided the great serpent with more than adequate protection from most offensive charms. Charms like diffindo would bounce off unless cast either on to the unprotected eye or into the serpent's mouth. That meant for the most part he was limited to that magic which actually had a physical presence and even then, only the strongest physical presences would even register with the serpent. Third was to avoid the poisoned fangs because even if the basilisk's gaze didn't kill you, a nip from those fangs would. The serpent had two defenses there, the first was its venom and the second was not as well-known but was its saliva. Even if the bite was not envenomed, it would most likely kill, though on this serpent, the fangs were large enough to do significant damage without needing to be poisoned in any way.

       The dueling chamber had been configured today to provide some cover for him, though it appeared to be a maze. It would hinder the basilisk but would hinder him as well if he wandered aimlessly through it, Draco had realized while he had taken stock of his weapons. He had his wands, his primary wand strapped into the small of his back while his secondary one lay along his right arm. He'd argued the positioning should be reversed, until his mother had pointed out how easily his arm could be broken and in the break his wand would be finished as well so it was better to use his primary wand only when needed or when doing set charms and spells in controlled environments. His sword was at his side, where any good Lord would keep it but he also had a dagger in each boot, though he wasn't as proficient in their use as he wanted to be and a set of throwing blades were on his right thigh. At the beginning of summer he'd tried arguing with his mother that he hadn't needed such weapons, he did after all have magic but she'd insisted and explained patiently that while he had magic, most shields weren't effective against physical weapons and that a dagger in the heart was just as fatal as Avada Kedavra. She didn't intend for him to always use these weapons but she wasn't going to allow him to be in a situation where he needed them and was without. Her training had been as much about contingency as it had been about ability.

       He'd decided he would need some cover still but not the amount that the maze was giving and so once he'd listened for the basilisk he'd risen and swept his right hand through a grand gesture, destroying the maze at waist height. Now he could see his way through it, and see what was coming towards him, while the height of the walls would provide him some cover when he needed to duck and hide. It was also high enough that the basilisk would be reluctant to slink over the walls as the tops were jagged and uneven and would not provide enough support for the serpent's bulk. He'd hoped. He'd dived a few pathways into the maze then and slammed himself up against the wall so that the basilisk couldn't see him. At that point Draco had smiled ruefully as he cut his hand on a small piece of debris. There was a thick dust in the air which obscured vision as well but also, probably, hindered tracking by scent so the blood shouldn't be a problem. The injury though had reminded him that he hasn't taken into account all the weapons. The debris itself could be used to effect against the serpent.

       The blonde had flicked his wand again, pointing it at the debris that was lying around and levitating as many finger sized pieces as he could manage before he hurled them in the direction he could hear the serpent. Larger pieces wouldn't penetrate the basilisk's eyes and Draco had been rewarded with a hiss and an almost squawking like sound of surprise as the small debris hit the serpent.

       In as much as Draco hoped that the debris would have blinded the serpent, he knew better than to assume that it had and so he shifted his power around to take a peak with his astral eyes. It required quite a bit of concentration to send the astral projection and recall it fast enough so that your physical form was not endangered. He felt a small flash of satisfaction at the sight of the basilisk hissing in pain, left eye closed with blood flowing from beneath the eyelid. The other eye was flashing red and the basilisk's mouth was open, the almost acidic venom glistening on the serpents very long fangs. The mouth wasn't open enough though for a thrown dagger to penetrate. He shook his head resolutely. He shouldn't be thinking about throwing a dagger yet as he had not yet mastered his father's grace with those weapons. It was coming to him, his Mother had assured him but he couldn't rely on his aim that much yet.

       Draco rose and jumped, clearing several more paths on the maze. The serpent turned towards the sound but the loss of one eye hadn't yet made the serpent angry enough to attack without thought and the great snake hissed, remaining good eye flashing as it examined the debris and the maze carefully. There was a crash and a puff of cloudy air rushed overhead. The noise was repeated and Draco frowned. What was the beast doing? He risked another astral glance and was surprised at the logic the snake was showing. The maze was, as Draco had hoped, still too high and the tops were too sharp for it to safely and comfortably crawl over, and the pathways, while wide enough for the serpent to slither through would limit it's methods of attacking and so it was using its tail to destroy the maze, hitting the structure repeatedly and with great force that was collapsing the walls and creating a path towards him. While the pile of debris would not be even for the snake to crawl upon, it would not hinder its movements much.... and flattening the maze reduced the cover available to the serpent's attacker.

       All right, so the lesson was, it might look like a dumb, stupid beast but even dumb, stupid beasts could reason out the best method of their survival and most definitely did not respect the power he wielded. Draco hunkered down. He had to find some way of taking out the other eye, or fight completely blind. He could just cast reductos at the serpent but even with his power behind them, it would be a stroke of luck them to be fatal, especially if he was casting blind. If he could remove the other eye, then he could cast much more freely and there was a chance he could aim into the beast's mouth which would do much more damage. But to do that he would need to _look_ at the serpent.

       But... he didn't have to look at the serpent on the side of its good eye.

       A slow smile stretched across his features. He was approaching the snake almost head on but to be safe and be able to cast from relative safety, all he had to do was make the beast turn to its right. Carefully, Draco levitated some more debris, and hurled it to his left heading towards the serpent. There was a hiss and the soft slither of scales over the debris and while it was dangerous, Draco risked a peak upwards. As expected the snake had reacted to the noise and had turned its good eye towards the sound. Malfoy grinned and dived away from the basilisk, casting a cushioning charm so that the great serpent couldn't sense the vibrations from his movements.

       Once he was settled, he levitated more debris, this time casting it to his right. He didn't want the serpent to get suspicious of a sound always coming from one side. Again there came a slither of scales accompanied by an annoyed hiss as the serpent realized again there was nothing there. It turned back towards the maze and began hitting the structure again with its tail. Draco shuddered sympathetically with what was left of the structure as each thump reverberated through him. The snake was a lot stronger than it looked.

       Gathering his power, Draco had levitated more debris and rose when he heard the hiss as the serpent turned to investigate. With one eye blind, it had to turn to see because even basilisk's knew their best weapons were their eyes and if any attacker was approaching, it's gaze would force them back or fix the problem all together. That though left an opening for someone who wasn't where he was meant to be. It appeared the serpent hadn't yet grasped the concept of projectiles. As the beast turned, Draco rose and as fast as he could he aimed and cast the strongest diffindo he could towards the serpent, trying to severe the head from the body.

       Almost before he'd completed the harsh slashing movement of the charm he'd been jumping for a new place of cover, stretching as far as he could. The serpent may not understand projectiles... but just in case it learnt, better to try to be away from the point of origin of the charm. It wasn't a hiss this time from the serpent but an amazingly human like scream of pain before there was a clatter of debris as the serpent swung back around quickly snapping their jaws at where a foe should be. That brought a hiss of annoyance and Draco ducked back down to cover as the serpent swept its gaze over the maze.

       His diffindo had cut into the basilisk's scaly hide and the wound was dripping blood down the serpent to pool on the ground. It wasn't a fatal wound though and the serpent would not bleed out from it but Draco was pleased. His charms could at least hurt the beast and if he could continue to cut at the serpent he would eventually win, especially if he could take out the other eye.

       The injury though seemed to awaken the serpent's blood lust and with a loud hiss that was almost a snarl it began to spin, coiling itself tight before uncoiling with impressive force to ram its tail into the already abused maze. The noise of impact was incredible and Draco shuddered with the maze as the shock reverberated through him. The structure wouldn't hold through many of those hits and when it collapsed the basilisk would be free to attack him head on. At that point the serpent's greater bulk and near impenetrable scales would end the battle in its favour.

       'And this was one training session that couldn't be repeated.' Draco thought furiously as he hunkered down, making himself as small as possible to avoid bringing attention to himself. What he needed was a distraction, something that would divert the serpent long enough for him to launch shards at its other eye. Once that deadly gaze was gone, he could fight far more freely and the destruction of the maze would no longer be critical. Desperate he pointed his wand to the left, flicking it through the proscribed movements for the locomotion charm and almost instantly some of the larger chunks of debris he'd created earlier grew little legs and began aimlessly and directionless running and scrambling around.

       The snake paused at the new noise but Draco bided his time. After being wounded the basilisk would be cautious and would examine the situation with all its other senses before it risked its eye. It probably wasn't as reliant on eyesight as he was, Draco realized ruefully but a basilisk did know what its best weapon was. He was going to have to time his strike for when the basilisk turned to see what was making the new noises, for when the basilisk needed that last visual check that the newly enhanced debris was not a threat.

       Draco strained his hearing, holding his breath and listening through the pounding of his heart, so that he could hear every small shift the serpent made while he waited for the heavier slither that would announce that the serpent was turning.

       It never came.

       Instead the noise that came was that of the serpent spinning and an almost deafening thud as it impacted with the maze. And this impact was followed by a loud crack. The initial noise faded and then there came softer cracks, the noise almost feathery and delicate. The basilisk hissed and the blond didn't need to be a parselmouth to hear the satisfied note in the serpents voice.

       His time was up.

       The noise of the feathery cracks was drowned as the serpent began spinning again, preparing to hit the maze again. Draco gulped before calling his strongest charms to mind. He still had a chance. The maze would collapse but he could still take out the basilisk's other eye and then he would just have to be very fast on his feet to defeat the serpent. He just had to remain calm, remain focused and not hold back his power when destroying the other eye. It would be a barrage, physical and magical. He only needed one splinter to hit and while elegance, precision and conservation of magical power had been a significant part of his mother's training, this was one situation where overkill would not be ostentatious.

       There came the thud of impact again, and this time there was no deafening crack but rather there was a wave like noise as the feathery cracks spread throughout the maze. Draco shifted slightly as they whispered past his back, feeling like a gentle caress though his battle robes and light armor. He shifted his grip on his wand as he waited for the serpent to strike the maze again with the blow that would destroy it. As it fell, while the debris provided cover, that was his time to strike.

       The basilisk hissed, sounding sure of itself and in his mind's eye Draco could see it as it drew itself up, waiting for any movement to reveal the location of its prey. Its wounds were painful, no doubt but not debilitating and except for the loss of one eye it was in reasonable condition. 'Well', Draco considered, 'so was he'. This battle would come down to the final moments; the strikes they both knew would come when the maze fell.

       The two of them waited and Draco resisted the urge to fidget. Any movement might give away his position and he was somewhat surprised that the serpent hadn't smelt him. He was grateful for that though and forced his muscles to relax. Losing patience now would not be in his interests and he thought that was why the basilisk was waiting.

       Finally the serpent hissed something before there was a final thud against the maze and wizard and basilisk both sprang into action.

       For Draco things seemed to slow down as he leapt and spun, risking the serpents gaze as he cast his strongest charms and flung as much debris as he could at the snake. The fractured shards of the maze seemed to hang in the air, spinning slowly. It would have been beautiful, almost like snowfall, if it hadn't have been so deadly. He kept casting but his breath hitched and his gut tightened as he realized most charms and debris were missing the mark and then bile rose in his throat as Draco realized the serpent's eyes were closed! It wasn't risking its other eye, not when teeth and venom would be just as effective and it could track him down by sound and smell.

       Draco dived to the side as the serpent lunged blindly and then he realized his mistake when the basilisk turned sharply, its head tilting towards him, jaws half open and tongue flickering in the air. The movement had given away his position and the serpent seemed to smile as it lunged again, this time on target with bared fangs.

       'I'm going to die.'

       The thought was crystalline to Draco, sharp and concise with its clarity in his mind. But at the realization, something shifted within him, filling his heavy arms and legs with energy that burst out of him uncontrollably.

       'I am NOT going to die,' came the denial and Draco wasn't sure if he spoke but he felt the power burst forth, brilliantly yellow and shockingly noisy in the Malfoy Training Room.

       Power splashed every which way and the basilisk didn't even have time for a startled hiss before the ribbons cut through it. They traveled on to embed themselves into the rooms walls, making the entire manor house shudder and the wards rang as the power resonated with them. Draco didn't notice any of this because as quickly as the power had gathered it was gone and he didn't feel himself slump forward in exhaustion. He only felt the small satisfied smile on his features. 'I won.'

       After that, he'd woken up as his Mother had levitated him through the house to his chambers. And then after making him drink a potion or two, she'd left him to his thoughts but there had definitely been a pleased smile gracing her features.

       Draco blinked, going back to the core of his problem. Had today been advanced training or had today been an assassination attempt disguised as training? Was his mother now the enemy?

       Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the facts come to him. Some of the facts seemed insignificant: the way she smelt today, both before and after his training, the soft smile that had graced her features as she'd tucked him into bed, the lilt of her voice and some were significant: the set of the training room, the oblique warning, the teaching of charms and reinforcement of respect for foes. It all added to the picture and to the decision he had made.

       Slowly he released his breath, letting it go as the tension drained from him in a tangible wave. His limbs felt light and buoyant and Draco opened his grey eyes to look up at the embroidered canopy of his bed. His mother was NOT the enemy. In fact, she might be the loyalist ally he could possibly have. The evidence was plain: the relief in her voice after he'd killed the basilisk, the tangy smell of worried perspiration clinging to her and the way her eyes had glittered with love. She was holding back on what that attack was but Narcissa was genuinely relieved he had survived the basilisk. At the same time, she was probably the only person who loved and trusted him enough to actually train him with such dangerous techniques.

       Tomorrow they would discuss the battle and he would learn ways of improving as well as learning exactly what he'd done to the basilisk. While there was probably not enough time remaining in this summer to master that power he would go to Hogwarts with a plan to bring it under his control and he would work on it there because he could feel it now, coiled within him, waiting for his call. So he would train until he could pull his full power to himself at a moment's notice. There was a truism in wizarding world, one that went somewhat against the power of blood but it was one Draco accepted - power called to power. It was shown in the way that the mudbloods and blood traitors flocked to Dumbledore, it was shown in the way that those of the blood had recognized the power of the Serpent Lord before he became corrupted and Draco knew for him to attract enough followers, he would have to show his power but he would have to do it discretely, covertly, slowly gaining allies and strength under Dumbledore's nose.

       He grinned. Dumbledore would keep the Serpent Lord away since it was well known that the former Dark Lord feared the batty old man and at the beginning of summer Draco would have rolled his eyes at the weakness but he better understood now. Albus Dumbledore was old and potentially senile and loopy but he was also powerful. He had allies, he knew people and more than that he knew things about people that kept them in line, and so while he was old, he was still a wizard to be feared. Draco would use that though. Dumbledore would keep the Serpent Lord away which would leave him free to recruit, to seduce and convince those who would have followed the Serpent Lord that their true path lay with him. Yes, the Defender of Light would nurture and protect his abilities and allies until they could bring down the Serpent Lord themselves... and then the Light should beware.

       He... Draco Malfoy was not as insipid or as confused as the Serpent Lord. He would not be corrupted from his purpose by anything.

===

       :Master,: the shadows interrupted his climb. He'd been climbing and swooping, using the exercise to build up his wing muscles and hone his control. But he was a bit tired and he aborted the climb, alighting on the inside of the lowest goal ring. His servants, while always with him, never used that tone unless they were serious. The quiet commentary he'd gotten used to, their almost constant dialogue of observations and comments was all jovial. This tone was something else. This was the tone they used when asking permission to eat. This was the tone they used when they promised him everything. This was the tone they used when nothing and no one would stand in their way.

       :Yes?: he replied silently, folding his wings around his body as the slight breeze both tugged at him and cooled him.

       :We need you to cast a spell, Master. Now. At your full power.:

       They placed no particular emphasis on the word but Harry knew they meant in his full tenshi form.

       :On whom?: he asked.

       :On Remus Lupin,: they replied before noticing his stab of uncertainty. :It is the negation spell,: the shadows choral voice added dryly.

       Harry nodded his understanding. :Show me the spell,: he said as he gathered himself. He would transform, cast it and transform back as quickly as he could. While Fawkes couldn't sense him properly in his animagus form, the phoenix or Dumbledore, or almost any other of the faculty might be able to sense the power spike. And he didn't want them to investigate that closely. The shadows formed themselves into the words, hanging in the air for him to read while another couple flicked through the appropriate gestures. He wouldn't need his wand when fully transformed, in fact trying to use his wand when transformed would most likely incinerate it with power overload but the gestures would make the flow of magic slightly easier for him and gave him something to focus on when he released the spell. He should have been expecting them to ask for this... Sirius as their... his representative could cast it, but it would be better coming from him. And Remus would want it soon, would need it soon to demonstrate to the werewolves that he was as good as his word and his word had the power to give the promises the shadows had made. And since there was no way for him to cast this spell on Remus with his permission as the Shadow Lord, as the werewolf would probably make several connections Harry didn't want anyone making just yet, so it had to be done surreptitiously now, while he could access his full power.

       :Yes,: the shadows seemed to nod. :Remus will seek out Sirius before the moon, seeking a gesture of good faith to demonstrate to the other werewolves that we can do what we promised. And then he will take our proofs to them and our power will speak for itself.:

       :Once they accept, how am I going to cast the spell on all of them without them seeing me?: Harry asked curiously.

       :With difficulty,: the shadows admitted, but they dismissed the concern for now. :Worry about that when they agree.:

       :I thought you were sure.:

       :We are but we do not like to count on things before they are absolute,: the shadows said reasonably before they braced themselves, preparing to both hide from the light of Harry's full animagus form as well as preparing to gorge themselves on as much light as they could consume.

       :Stay,: Harry commanded with a hint of steel in his voice.

       :Master?:

       :You have to learn to bear my light one day, now is a good time for this will be brief,: he explained.

       :Yes, Master,: the shadows replied, flowing back around him. There was the tiniest quaver in their tone but they accepted his order.

       Harry intoned the words of the charm he had to cast on Remus a few times, practicing the accompanying gesture with his hand before he seemed to bunch up, gathering himself in the moments before his transformation. :Ready?:

       :Yes, Master.:

       Harry nodded, closed his eyes and raised his face to the sun as he drew the mental image and willed his body to move into it. Unlike the transformation into his current form, this transformation into his full form was not about change but about loss. He could feel his corporeal form falling away from him, dissolving as his essence became purely magic. It was almost as if he had been covered in oil that gravity was pushing down his body and away from him. As the imaginary oil flowed away from him, he emerged as pure magic, confined only by his will into the shape of a tenshi.

       He was a beacon of light and the shadows skittered happily for a moment but as the energy continued to flow through him, as the energy continued to become him their skittering grew pained and he could feel them gasping as they tried to consume his light and failed. :Stop,: he cautioned them. :Just bear it. Just accept my light without consuming it. Just let it flow with you, to compliment your darkness, don't fight it my servants for this light is your companion.: For some reason the words felt right and the shadows seemed comforted as they stopped fighting his light and tried to move with it.

       Harry smiled as they did that before he raised one hand and whispered the words of the spell, picturing Remus in his mind's eye as the target. The magic flowed around him, and through him, amplified many times because he was magic before it spun out invisibly, forming what appeared to be a band that would encircle the werewolves head to reinforce his human mind. Other tendrils flowed behind the band like ribbons and Harry knew those would reach down, wrapping around Remus' body to help reduce the pain of the transformation.

       He watched, though the magic of Hogwarts as the spell settled on to the werewolf, who didn't notice a thing. This was not an invasive spell so for it did not trigger most protections and the wards on Hogwarts Castle itself had not even hindered it, though they had recognized the presence of magic crossing their boundary. Harry couldn't help but look at the wards as well, noticing their very strong glow and their anchor points. He didn't think he'd have to break them in the future, but one could never be sure and while he had the leisure to just look he felt he should.

       The distress of his servants reminded him this was meant to be a brief transformation and while it had only been a minute or so, he needed to transform back before someone or something in the castle sensed his presence. The shadows had begun to flow with his light but they were still being hurt and they'd need practice doing that before they could smoothly flow with it. Their instinct was to consume light but in this case while they could consume it, they needed to learn to work with it. Almost like swimming. One could drink water but one could not hope to drink all the water in the lake so one went swimming in it. The shadows were used to amounts of light they could consume, not amounts that they had to interact with in some other way. Harry sighed as he reverted to what he was coming to call his Halfling form. While the shadows had assured him he could hold his true animagus form almost indefinitely he hadn't had much chance to practice and he still wasn't used to the sensation of weakness.

       While the transformation into his full animagus form felt like he was emerging or lifting free of his corporeal form - and it was very like that - the transformation back felt like he was putting on a limiter. He was putting back on his flesh and while he couldn't deny the sense of comfort he felt when he had a physical form, he disliked intensely the feel of his flesh limiting the power flows. There was a wild freedom in his animagus form; he was unconstrained and uncontainable, free to be whatever he wanted.

       :You are free in whatever form you chose, Master,: the shadows reminded him gently.

       :Not yet I'm not,: he disagreed.

       They giggled. :Soon though.:

       :Yes,: Harry agreed. :Soon I will be free.:

       He frowned slightly, preparing to take to the air again when a fragment of memory hit him. :Before my birthday,: he began, struggling to remember exactly what they had said, :You told me that there was only one way to destroy a phoenix.: He did remember rather distinctly that they had said you couldn't kill a phoenix, you had to destroy them.

       :We did,: they confirmed.

       :And you said that there was only two ways to corrupt a phoenix,: Harry added as more of the conversation returned to him, including the brief flash of rage he'd felt when they had told him they could not remove the phoenix tattoo. But the kernel of a new idea was forming... another way to bring a phoenix down.

       :Yes, Master. A phoenix either corrupts themselves... something which despite Fawkes' manipulative nature is highly unlikely, or you ask a dark tenshi to corrupt him for you,: the shadows summarized.

       :Why can't I do it?: Harry asked in a hurry.

       The shadows paused at his question and Harry felt decidedly mixed sentiments from them; confusion that he would be asking this, chagrin at themselves that they hadn't anticipated it and cold, and calculating consideration of the idea. He remembered what they said, he needed a dark tenshi and that if he summoned one he'd probably kill it but that was because he'd have been trying to force it to his will... though he rather doubted any wizard could force a full blood tenshi to obey them. But while they had said it would require a dark tenshi, they hadn't said why. Corruption of light was not infection, it was something else. Similar to what the shadows did when seducing someone but not quite since there was no consumption of light either. It was possible that a dark tenshi would be required because a light one would not be willing to corrupt the light of another being of light but... he was more than willing. His servants seemed to give off a soft buzz as they discussed his question though finally their echoing voice seemed to coalesce into one voice that he thought he recognized as Kali's.

       : Firstly Master, you are correct. The summoning of a tenshi is not so much a summoning but is more a request to listen, with a plea not to be destroyed if the listening does not go well. The only thing that can compel a tenshi is another tenshi. In fact the only successful summonings that we've heard of or seen is when the summoner offers gifts to the tenshi for their attention and gives further gifts if any services are rendered. And in most cases the wizards haven't known exactly what they have discoursed with.:

       Harry smiled. While his servants insisted on the absolute meaning of language, it appeared that sometimes even they were not immune to the urge to be somewhat vague and imprecise.

       :Secondly,: the shadows continued, :we do not believe you can corrupt Fawkes. You are a light tenshi, and while you are correct in your surmise that any other light tenshi would not be inclined to corrupt Fawkes, we believe you to be a special case for the following reasons. Fawkes does not yet fully trust you.:

       :With reason,: Harry interrupted.

       :Oh yes, with reason and with memory of the past,: his servants added the tantalizing hint.

       :The past?:

       :Not yet Master. We are sorry but not yet,: the shadows full voice returned, tinged with regret and Harry knew they weren't quite ready to tell him of that history that they had previously hinted at. They would in time, he knew but not yet and while he could force them he felt no need to drag the details out of them. Then their voice changed as they took up the explanation again.

       :Because Fawkes does not trust you, he will be on guard against you and any attempt you make to corrupt him may be enough for him to discover some of those things we'd rather weren't noticed yet. Additionally while the corruption of light is not infection, it does require you to possess a small bit of dark. You Master, do not. While we admit your understanding of light and dark is surpassed by none, this is a case where understanding is not enough. The being corrupting the light, or even in the reverse, the corruption of dark can only be done by those who possess both and your darkness Master, is us and is therefore external to you.:

       :Is there anything else?: Harry asked, closing his eyes as he stretched his wings.

       :No. We believe it would be possible for us together to corrupt Fawkes but for the first reason. He will be on guard against us. So we are sorry Master, a dark tenshi must be found or summoned and persuaded to corrupt Fawkes. On the bright side though,: they giggled at their pun, :because you are a tenshi, persuasion is likely to be easy and we will help the Serpent Lord when he talks to them if another opportunity does not arise.:

       Harry nodded as he stepped off the goal ring, flapping his wings powerfully to gain altitude. He still had several hours in which he was cleared to practice flying and he intended to use them all. Fawkes would understand, especially when he related the joy he felt in this form, joy that the phoenix would take as pleasure in flying, which he did feel but he felt more pleasure in being unobserved and able to be himself. His servants had clarified the situation but still, nothing they had said went against his idea. He may yet be able to destroy the phoenix himself but for the moment he tucked the still developing idea deep into his mind. He would think about it and develop it slowly, making sure he'd thought of every angle before he asked their opinion. They would help him with the idea, even now but every now and then, it was better to stand alone.

       He smiled as he reached the peak of his climb and folded his wings in diving towards the ground with just the leading edges extended to allow him to guide his motion slightly.

       There was so much freedom here and it was a sensation he savored, not knowing how long it would be before he could experience it again. The shadows flickered on the ground and trailed along behind him, ribbons of power and protection that seemed insubstantial but were almost absolute. They especially loved clinging to his corporeal wings that appeared to be an inky black, covered as they were with his servants. He shook them briefly, dislodging the shadows slightly so that his wings soft luminescence shone through, before the shadows covered it again, greedily sucking up the soft light they generated. His full light was too harsh for them at the moment but they would grow fat on the light from his wings long before they had consumed enough. He'd told the wizards his wings were white because he was a Halfling but the shadows had maintained that in time he'd learn to change the color of his wings. It didn't really bother Harry, though he was tactician enough to see the disadvantages of snowy wings at night.

       At length as he back wings into land, he gave his servants a small morsel of soft light. They snuggled into him, :Thank you Master.:

       :You are welcome,: Harry replied smiling as he sent them a burst of affection as he sat down.

       They appreciated the gesture but he could feel their curiosity.

       "There's no one around," he said, ignoring their curiosity for the moment.

       :No, Fawkes has been as good as his word on this.:

       "Then while flying is a great deal of fun, I should also attend to some other matters while his eyes are averted," Harry explained to them as he sent them another burst of energy to consume before he reached out with his mental presence, brushing his mind against his beloved's occlumency shields. He could have just showed his presence the in Dark Lord's mind but Harry realized that while they were still feeling the indulgence brought about by finding each other, they should set some rules and just appearing fully in the mind and thoughts of the other, no matter how pleasurable at times could be dangerous. The mental equivalent of knocking was essential. At least this year. They could review in the future.

       As expected though, Voldemort's mind opened to him with a rush of soft emotion as soon as Harry was recognized. The reasoning behind his caution also translated and Harry could almost feel the shaking of the older wizards head. :Harry, Harry, Harry,: the serpentine voice flowed to him. :You are far too considerate for me,: came the chiding but the tone carried acceptance and pride that Harry had been so logical. Hard on the acceptance though came the exclusions. :When we lie together we are one and after this year, when the phoenix is gone, you are mine!: The Dark Lord's thought was quiet but his tone was possessive and Harry shivered at the raw desire he could feel from his lover. It was echoed in him and for a long moment the two of them indulged in a mental hug, one that caressed the other fully with their presence.

       :So what brings you to me today, little one?: Voldemort asked finally, drawing back slightly to avoid complete intoxication. That was something they could not yet indulge in.

       :And you say I'm too considerate,: Harry said with a smile.

       :You are. I should be the one broaching caution, yet I find myself over extended and willing to risk more to have this thing done with.:

       :I too find myself wanting but the Muggles have a saying, patience is a virtue and we will be patient. As for why I'm here, they are letting me practice my animagus form and Fawkes can't communicate with me when I'm in it.: Harry said the last with a smirk.

       There was another mental caress from Voldemort as he considered that information, his mind forming and discarding several theories. :Do they suspect?: He asked finally. A being of light such as Harry's animagus form should have no difficulty in speaking with another being of light like a phoenix.

       :No,: Harry replied. :Fawkes thinks it's just energy overload and as I get more practiced at controlling this form then there will be less wasted energy and thus less overload to interfere with his voice.

       Voldemort chuckled at that. :And at that point, I think my voice should interfere.:

       Harry giggled, imagining the phoenix's response to that before a sharp pain flashed through him.

       Xaos screamed, manifesting around him fully, writhing in agony. The basilisk's eyes were open wide and Xaos' mouth gapped as the serpent thrashed uncontrollably. Harry shook off the pain and jumped towards Xaos, capturing his basilisk's head in his arms and holding him close, his hands moving almost frantically in stroking soothing motions as he crooned deep in his throat at the distraught serpent.

       "Xaos!" Harry called.

       :It was Xir,: Voldemort's came to him, and Harry sensed that the Dark Lord was bringing himself under control. His mental tone though was frigid, not towards Harry but towards someone or something unspecified.

       :Xir?: Harry asked as Xaos began to calm. The basilisk though was twined around Harry closely, almost as if seeking comfort from his presence.

       :Someone killed Xir,: Voldemort explained, his voice overlaid with Xatarass'. :All basilisks in our family are joined,: he continued, :and when one dies before their time, we all feel it. We just felt Xir's violent death. Even if it was Xir's time though, we'd have felt it, just far more gently.:

       Harry's eyes narrowed as Xaos stilled and gently stroked his nose into Harry's face.

       :Xir has been absent for a while,: Xatarass continued. :That's not unusual,: the serpents voice was clinical and he was obviously suppressing his pain. :But as no one had been able to contact him the search was on. Too late it appears,: Xatarass concluded.

       Xaos looked around. :Xir was with Xuld, Xal and Xentor,: the young basilisk said. :Have they been found?: he asked, using Harry's voice, though his tone was carefully controlled and betrayed no hope.

       :Not yet,: the elder serpent said.

       Harry looked into Xaos' green eyes before he turned away, staring at one of the ever present shadows. "Find them," he instructed firmly.

       :Master?:

       "Find them," he repeated.

       :We don't know where,: the shadows said rather petulantly.

       "Then you'd better start looking," Harry said without shame, ignoring their grumbling. He'd learnt that his servants sometimes complained or objected to his orders, just to make sure that he truly wanted what he ordered. It would continue for a while he figured, or at least until they were comfortable with having a master again and they worked together as one. He didn't resent it. They truly wanted to work with him and as such they were both learning about the other.

       :Thank you,: Voldemort said and Harry sensed he was reluctant to speak further and he withdrew after giving his beloved a final mental caress.

       Xatarass and the Serpent Lord would need to be alone for a little bit. Of course that wasn't what was really best but it was all he could do at the moment since he couldn't exactly apparate to his beloved and show him the joys of life and love to combat the grief. No matter how much he wanted.

       "When you find them bring them to me," Harry added the instruction.

       :You assume they are in trouble.:

       "I know they are," Harry replied.

       :A reasonable assumption,: the shadows conceded. :We will bring them if possible,: they said. :Otherwise that will be up to you or the Serpent Lord to arrange.:

       Harry nodded before he ruffled his wings, closing them briefly over Xaos to comfort his serpent. He had intended to spent a bit more time speaking to his beloved but the opportunity was lost and that was something whoever killed Xir would live long enough to regret.

       Harry flexed his claws and flapped his wings as Xaos faded back into him, the little basilisk's mental presence clinging to him for comfort. He took to the air again, considerably more comfortable with flying than he had been earlier. He swept his wings down before calling his power to him, imagining Xir's killer in front of him before he released the energy. He spun mid-air and fired off another curse as he practiced. If he couldn't spend time with Lord Voldemort, then he would at least do what he was meant to be doing.

       After all the more proficient he was with his animagus form, the more power he'd be able to channel as human and perhaps he would be able to get rid of the weakness he felt in that form. And of course, more power meant he'd be placed in combat sooner and then perhaps he'd feel like he was doing something.

       At least he hoped he'd be allowed to do something. There was little point to his training otherwise but sometimes Dumbledore got strange ideas.

 

 


	17. Werewolf Complications

Weapon  
Chapter 17 Werewolf Complications

===

       Remus sat on the balcony in a comfortable chair, looking up at the moon. It was waxing and in a few days it would be full. He could almost feel the werewolf in him twitching in anticipation but he knew any sensation caused by the light of the moon was merely his over active imagination creating phantom tingles in his bones and muscles. He'd gotten used to that particular sensation a while back even though some werewolves claimed that sometimes, when the moon was not yet full but the light was strong, they could actually feel their bones begin to shift, but Lupin also knew that the change was only possible on nights of the full moon. The full moon was his enemy, not the phases. He took a sip of wine and picked up the paper that was resting on the small table beside him. A lumos spell, embedded into the wall above him glowed softly, giving him enough light to read by without drowning the area in its glow, allowing him to still appreciate the breeze and the night air.

       He was worried. After that article he'd expected to be barraged with problems but except for the one article screaming that a werewolf loyal to You-Know-Who had been captured, there had been barely a whisper in the paper. Oh sure they'd stated that the werewolf was in Auror custody and was being questioned but they never named names, and never gone much further than that. So far the fall out had been very light and he was inexplicably thankful for that. Maybe someone in the Ministry had realized how bad it would be if they pushed the werewolves towards the Dark Lord... or something.

       Remus was thankful, but not stupid and he scanned the paper carefully every day to see if anything was amiss. His position, here at Hogwarts, was available only because he was an Order member and because Harry was training. He was not so naive to think that he would be accepted anywhere else nor did he think here was safe, safer perhaps, but safe, no. No matter. Safe was a relative consideration.

       He snorted remembering his encounter with the still in residence Potion Master. Dumbledore had asked Snape to brew the Wolfsbane potion while Remus was staying at the castle and the werewolf had been dutifully taking it and sleeping out the night of transformation locked in his rooms. With the full moon nearing, he had sort out with the Potion Master to make the necessary arrangements for this time but had been rather taken back by how withdrawn the man had been. It wasn't obvious but if you knew what you were looking for, and you watched for a short time, you could see how the usually confident head of Slytherin House started slightly at every small sound or unexpected flicker. This was not a man who was in control of himself and without knowing exactly how he knew, Remus was certain, absolutely certain that the Potions Master had not been able to brew a successful sleeping potion for a while, let alone a potion of any complexity. And he knew with absolute certainty that he didn't want to trust his transformation to a potentially botched potion.

       At best he'd have a normal transformation and a belly ache in the morning... at worst... Remus shuddered at the possibilities... who knew? There were so many things that could potentially go wrong with a complex potion like Wolfsbane Potion that the number of possible outcomes was astounding and while unlikely to be fatal, the werewolf knew there were fates worse than death and those fates were especially likely with a botched potion that affected one's mind as Wolfsbane potion did. Spending the rest of his life, trapped with his animal mind or with no mind at all was not appealing.

       And so, despite the fact it was practically an official Marauder Law to 'Make Snape's life hell', he'd decided to show some maturity and had tapped the Potion Master in the hallway outside the dining room when they'd gathered for lunch. The suppressed jump that he'd seen had confirmed his decision and he'd merely informed the greasy haired man that this moon he would not be requiring the potion. It was a testament to how stressed Severus was that he didn't even sneer or make some derogatory remark about werewolves. He'd merely nodded his acknowledgment of the words before walking into the room for his meal. Remus though hadn't missed the slight, very slight signs of relief in the man but he'd held back on any comment as well, because truthfully he felt relieved himself. If he couldn't contact the somewhat unknown party, he would just have to strip out one of the rooms and hole up in it. He'd suffered through the transformation without Wolfsbane in the past, and Remus had no doubt he'd be doing it again in future.

       As for the breaking of the Marauder Law... Remus decided with a smile that he just wouldn't tell Padfoot. Even if his oldest friend found out, he was fairly sure that he could convince the canine animagus that it had been in his best interests not to demand that the potion be made for him this moon.

       He took another sip of wine, and flipped a few more pages over, scanning them carefully for any news. He went through the paper in the morning of course but a thorough examination had to wait until the night when everyone seemed to calm down. He was reaching out to grasp his goblet again when a hoot startled him and Remus was almost childishly proud of the fact that he nudged but caught the glass without spilling any of the wine as an unknown owl ghosted silently into his light and landed on the table.

       It somewhat presumptuously held out its leg to him and he could see a note tied there. The owl was black, with the slightest dappling of brown on its wings and had huge yellow eyes that watched him closely. Remus reached into his pocket, ignoring the way the owl fussed slightly when he didn't immediately reach for the note and after a moment of fumbling he brought out a noticeably squished owl treat and offered it to the bird who accepted it with obvious care to avoid nipping his fingers with its large hooked beak. The bird calmed, forgiving him the delay as he then reached out to untie the note. Once the note was untied he stroked the owls head once or twice but the bird began fussing again and with a few quick steps, talons clicking on the table top, it launched itself into the air and disappeared into the night on silent wings, leaving Remus to wonder after it.

       He didn't recognize the bird but that wasn't particularly unusual. The Order for example had a whole aviary full of owls in the attempt to confuse anyone trying to intercept their messages a different bird was used every time. He shrugged as he looked down at the parchment. Really, the owl wasn't important. The message was. But he had no idea who it was from and the writing of his name gave him no clues as to the sender. The parchment was unadorned; his name printed clearly with careful calligraphy and the wax seal was just a circular impression, giving no hint about the originator. For most wizards, they wouldn't have cared who sent him the parchment, but he'd been targeted in the past because of that bite and old habits died hardest.

       This letter could be almost anything - a howler, a portkey in disguise, a parchment bearing almost any other trap or spell - or it could be just a letter but he wasn't going to take chances. He picked up his wand, ready for anything before he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. The missive inside was short, but he gasped as he read the method of address. Whoever had sent this, knew exactly who he was and while they had been discrete with the outside addressing, the writer felt no need to be as subtle within.

       _To the Werewolf Pack Leader, Remus Lupin_ , the letter began, and Remus felt a mild stirring of surprise as the letters seemed to waver and some began unravelling. Quickly he grabbed his wand and placed the tip on the parchment and the words stabilized. He smiled as they stopped, suspecting now, for sure, who the letter was from but still resisting the urge to look at the signature. The parchment was most likely loaded with charms but since none were directed against him, he hadn't felt even a whisper of threat. He was reassured though, while they were happy to refer to him by his rank, the probable writer was discrete with the addressing and he had the feeling that if it had not have been him, with his unusual aura because of the werewolf and his wand, then the words would have unravelled completely before the letter could be used to incriminate anyone. The werewolves would be allies were nothing if not discrete. He took a deep breath and started again.

       _To the Werewolf Pack Leader, Remus Lupin,_

       _Firstly, we would like to thank you for the opportunity you gave us to openly lay out our proposal to the werewolves. While we had desired to be specific, you will acknowledge that without a face to face meeting that was always going to be somewhat difficult and your request to meet made it possible for us to clarify to you and therefore to your brethren any number of points in our proposal that we feel would probably have been over looked, or misunderstood._

       _Secondly, we would like to apologize for failing to anticipate that some further questions and queries would arise and that we had left in place no means to contact us. In the event that the werewolves decide to ally with us, something we are confident will happen shortly, we would be establishing means of communication but we should have foreseen that at least some level of communication would be necessary now, during what we shall deem the negotiation phase._

       _To correct that mistake, we would encourage you, or any other pack leader to go to the clearing in which we last spoke and to tap their wand on the small piece of parchment that is currently affixed to the centre of the clearing, saying the words 'I wish to discuss an alliance', and one of our representatives will be there within minutes no matter when the call is made. For ease of communication though we would request that you keep the number of werewolf representatives to a minimum but leave this choice entirely in your hands. If for any reason we need to converse with the werewolves directly, we will send you an owl requesting your presence for discourse._

       _Once a full agreement is made, a more permanent and less cumbersome means of communication will be set in place but for now, we are confident that this means will address the safety concerns we are sure we both are feeling._

       _Once again we thank you for your patience and willingness to treat with us and hope that any questions that have arisen since the time of our last discussion may be answered with due haste._

       _Our kindest and most sincere regards,_

       _Viable Option Number Four_

       With a snort of laughter Remus flicked his eyes once more over the letter. He could almost see the smirk on the representative's face as they'd signed off the letter he now held. That man had represented power, was power but in answering the werewolf's questions at their meeting the lycanthrope had seen that there was a man beneath that power and that was what had convinced him mostly that this option was viable and wasn't merely the temporary sanctuary leading to destruction that the Dark Lord offered.

       He blinked again. He'd never really thought of the dark path like that before, but with a burst of insight he could see that his observation was true and he knew what would happen if he didn't fight with proverbial tooth and nail to avoid going to the Dark Lord this time. A moment ago he would have fought the decision but so long as the usual stipulation remained, that individuals could serve where they would, he would have accepted it as the choice of the pack, even while he lead those members of the pack inclined to a more peaceful solution down his path. Such a split would have been disastrous and a slow death for his kind, Remus realized with a shudder. The Ministry would have persecuted them, and while the Dark Lord would have supported his followers, he would also see those who didn't follow him and would eventually find excuses to rid himself of those followers who were not deemed loyal. This wouldn't happen while they were still fighting but in the event the Dark Lord won, it was only a matter of time.

       And speaking of time... The werewolf looked up at the moon. It was nearly full and casting enough light that he could see the edges of the Forbidden Forest once he moved out of the lumos charm that was illuminating his copy of the Daily Prophet. It was bright enough that he wouldn't do something stupid like trip and break his neck, or anything else that might be cause for suspicion. He folded the letter carefully and tucked it into his breast pocket before picking up the paper and heading in, shutting the door to avoid having a bug infestation in his quarters, before he dropped the paper on his bed, picked up his cloak, and headed out the door for a late night stroll.

===

       "Get ready," the shadows said aloud, swirling around the clearing where Sirius had been camped for the last few days.

       Sirius looked up sharply at them. He was feeling more than a little put out with them at the moment and they knew it and had been conspicuous with their absence over the last few days. Oh they'd been around enough to make sure he didn't get into trouble and that his true identity was not discovered but that was about all they'd been around for. He hadn't particularly minded when they'd had him break the captured Death Eater Werewolf out from under the Ministry's nose but he was less than impressed when they'd insisted that he chaperone the man for a few days.

       The werewolf, one Gideon Prayleor, had been very impressed with him and very thankful for a day or so, obeying his instructions without question but then, after the shock of freedom had worn off, he'd begun questioning Sirius and had taken to following him everywhere in the hopes of gaining some information about him for the Dark Lord. It was so utterly transparent that even after Sirius had confronted him, Gideon had merely shrugged, admitted that's what he was doing and then kept on doing it! It had been more than a little frustrating to stay 'in character' as it where for days especially when the only help the shadows had given him was a bit of warning one time when the werewolf had attempted to remove his mask while he was sleeping. No, it had not been a good few days for Sirius and he was feeling more than a little irate with the shadows and their planning. There was absolutely no reason why he should be summarily assigned the task of watching the Death Eater when he could have just dumped the werewolf at one of Voldemort's strong holds and left it at that. Word would have gotten back to the Dark Lord as to who had rescued him and Sirius was sure the Serpent Lord would have been suitably thankful. If the shadows weren't sure of that then hell, he could have dumped the werewolf in Voldemort's lap with the shadows assisting his apparation and then been on his merry way, unencumbered. But no... they had insisted that the werewolf needed to stay with him for a day or so and thus Sirius had been stuck in his persona, and stuck with the job of babysitting a known escaped felon while he waited for the shadows to set up whatever it was that they needed to organize.

       The irony, while not appreciated, was not lost on him.

       The breakout had gone smoothly, though it had probably done nothing to establish him as something other than the Dark Lord's servant and the shadows has been honest enough to admit that, though they insisted that it was necessary. It had, though, more than established him as a very powerful wizard since the shadows had provided their very pervasive assistance. The complex holding the werewolf, the Auror Headquarters, was of course warded against apparation and the shadows hadn't felt like breaking the wards but there were secure sections, guarded rooms that were available for apparating into and they were used to transport high level criminals who could not be trusted to the floo network, which was after all public and could, with the right preparation be intercepted. The safe apparation rooms were of course heavily guarded with four Aurors standing at the meridian points and the room sealed until the right combination on the locking ward was tapped out with a wand. He'd apparated into the room in a crouch, already casting the stunning spells and he'd fired front and left to catch those two Aurors off guard before somersaulting to his left and spinning, generating a shield charm that the shadows angled for him to reflect the incoming stunner spells at the Aurors who had been to his right and behind him. As each of them had fallen to the others spell, the shadows had chuckled before detailing the pattern to tap out on the ward and he'd slipped out of the room and down the darkened corridor before the platoon of back up arrived. After all, even if one took out the Auror guards, no one was meant to be able to get out of those rooms that quickly.

       While his entry had unavoidably put the place on full alert and that would have caught most regular intruders, it was only a minor inconvenience for a wizard guided by Harry's servants. They'd lead him into offices and down corridors scant seconds before they were flooded with Aurors and then they'd lead him up into a small crawl space before they'd let him drop back down into the cell block. There had been some warding spells in the crawl space to prevent anyone doing what he'd done which was to evade the guard station that was necessary for entry into the cell areas but they'd been easy to disarm silently, even for him. Then it was merely a matter of slipping down the corridors, wrapped in the shadows to avoid calling attention to himself since at least some of these inmates would have sold him out until he found the cells with silver locks and the particular cell which held the Death Eater werewolf.

       The man had blinked at him with something akin to awe as he'd entered and after magically unlocking the chains, he'd merely looked at the werewolf and said 'You will come with me,' in a tone that was not a question and brooked no disobedience. The shadows which had been rather ostentatiously swirling around him had made him appear far more powerful than any wizard and the werewolf really had no other choice but to follow. It had taken them slightly longer to get out of the building than it had for Sirius to infiltrate but the werewolf was fairly young and reasonably fit and had followed without complaint or overt fear as Sirius and the shadows had lead him back through offices and corridors, and more than once into a crawl space to avoid detection but they'd eventually emerged into a reasonably large office with a cheery fire burning on the hearth and an ornamental jar of floo powder sitting beside it.

       Gideon had grinned at that, suppressing a full laugh and had merely asked "Where to?" as he'd walked towards the fireplace.

       "Windsor House," the shadows said while silently giving Sirius instructions. :Go there then grab him and apparate immediately.:

       Gideon had shrugged not recognizing the destination but not caring since any other destination would put him in further danger until he got his hands on a wand again. For the moment he was at the mercy of his rescuer and since that man had proven to be very slick, he saw no reason to doubt their ability now. The two of them had floo'd practically on each other's heels and Sirius had had a glimpse of some startled muggles before the rather richly appointed room they'd tumbled into disappeared with his apparation and they'd landed back in the neat camp he'd made a few hours earlier.

       It had taken Gideon a few moments to get his bearings and Sirius had used the time to build up the fire while he questioned the shadows. :Apparation trail?:

       :Even if they find where you floo'd out to, we have already removed the trace magic,: they assured him and answered a few other questions while dancing around the main one of why they'd brought the werewolf to his camp.

       "That was bloody brilliant!" Gideon had gushed after a few moments of silence once he had established that they were at whatever destination they were meant to be. "I didn't think _anyone_ could infiltrate and then move around the Auror Headquarters so freely. I don't think they did either," he'd added with a laugh.

       "I have certain advantages," Sirius had replied at the shadow's prompting.

       "Perhaps but infiltration, extraction and escape by one wizard, without a running battle is unheard of," Gideon said forcefully before looking around and noticing he was in the proverbial middle of nowhere. "Now what?" he asked.

       Sirius had touched his fingers to the centre of his forehead as he listened to the shadows and he resisted the urge to groan. After they'd finished talking he'd rather presumptuously had turned to Gideon and made an announcement. "Now, in exchange for my rescue of you, you will stay with me for a few days and during that time you will not use magic. After that, I'll take you to another contact and then you are their problem. You may communicate with your master if it does not send up a magical flare otherwise you will just accompany me quietly. Any questions?"

       "No, Shadow Lord."

       "I am not the Shadow Lord," Sirius had snapped. "I'm merely the servant who got the job of getting you out of there."

       Gideon had, had the good taste to chuckle a bit before bowing slightly, "and for that you have my thanks."

       "We are safe here," he'd nodded his acceptance before continuing. "But since I was not really prepared to grab you, you will forgive me if I now make the arrangements to pass you onto the next contact, and that is something you can help me with."

       Gideon had looked almost hurt but understanding. He'd looked around the small camp and it was obvious it was set up for one wizard, not two and while the man before him had been friendly and didn't radiant power as the Serpent Lord did, there was a sharp edge of alertness that he was wary of. The man was the shadows servant but he was also his own master. "I can help you?"

       "You can write the letter," Sirius had said, gesturing towards his parchment and quills. "Let's get this letter off, then you can talk to the Dark Lord all night for all I care just so long as you don't wake me," he'd added as the werewolf had sat down and prepared to write.

       Sirius grimaced at the recollection before looking over at Gideon. The werewolf was ready to leave and they only needed the word. The last few days had been annoying and the shadows' reluctance to explain why they needed him to baby-sit had rankled but Sirius had a theory about that, one he'd question them about later, because if true, it was a remarkable bluff they had pulled, and he always appreciated a good prank.

       :Go now,: the shadows said, giving Sirius the visualization of his destination as he placed one hand on the werewolf's shoulder and his magic reached out to drag him along in side long apparation.

===

       No matter what the letter had said, Remus was more than a little surprised when he heard the pop of apparation even before he'd returned his wand to its holster at his side after tapping the parchment and saying the words. He'd expected that he'd be waiting at least a few minutes but apparently Viable Option Number Four was far more ready to treat with the werewolves than even he'd thought.

       "I don't believe this!" The harsh accusation at least answered the question of how their dialogue would begin this time and Remus flicked his eyes to the rather young man that had accompanied the Shadow's representative.

       "I do not believe this!" The cry was repeated, accompanied by an accusative stab of a finger. "I do not believe you got me out of the Auror Headquarters just to dump me on a bloody member of the Order of the Phoenix. Look, I thank you for getting me out but I am not going straight back in. I'm out of here."

       The shadow's representative merely raised one eyebrow. "And where do you think you will go?"

       "Back to You-Know-Who," the man said looking around but not recognizing the forest even with the moonlight streaming down between the spindly limbs of the trees.

       There was an undignified snort and Remus just continued to watch as this played out. The last though had given him enough information for him to recognize that this must be the Death Eater Werewolf that had been captured... and, it appeared, freed. He'd think about the implications of how the werewolf had been freed later.

       "Ah, back to your Lord. A man I happen to know you have not been in contact with since before your rescue, and who is unlikely to take your rescue as anything but a trap."

       "I'll just tell him you rescued me."

       "Without confirmation from the shadows, do you really think your Lord will believe that? I rather imagine he'd be more inclined to believe you were released deliberately, possibly to track down the location of his stronghold. And that is of course assuming you even got that close to your Lord again, something I doubt given his survival instincts," the shadow representative spoke softly, with no hint of any emotion. "Now you could go back to the Aurors but I doubt they'd treat you too well, or you could attempt to hide amongst the muggles, something that will leave you hunted after the first moon, which is, rather conveniently for me, in a few days. So no, my little werewolf, you will stay here while your pack leader and I discuss a few things and then you will accompany him."

       The werewolf still looked rebellious.

       "Or there is one more option," the masked man said quietly, ignoring the look of hope on young Death Eater's face as he drew his wand. "If you truly do not wish to accompany your pack leader then I'll make the arrangements right now for your file in the Ministry to end with the statement 'DDI' and that will mean that no one will bother coming for you."

       "DDI?"

       "Died during interrogation," Remus supplied softly.

       "You wouldn't!" The young werewolf objected. "You wouldn't get me out of there just to kill me," he raged but was wise enough not to raise his hand against either.

       The shadow representative said nothing and didn't even so much as blink as he remained standing there, wand drawn, awaiting the werewolf's decision with as much interest as one would feel when told that the fashions had changed from favoring blue shirts to red, in Daroobalgie, Australia, which is to say, with no interest at all.

       The man's stoic outlook was not wasted on the young werewolf who relented with a subdued and fearful shudder. "Alright, I will go with the Pack Leader but if he hands me back over to the Aurors, I am going to try to run."

       "It does not concern me what you do while in your pack leaders care," the shadow representative said, dismissing the matter entirely and Remus couldn't help a bark of laughter.

       "What he means to say," Remus said for the benefit of the Death Eater Werewolf, "is now that I can confirm to the Gathering that the Shadows rescued you in good faith with no thought of reward, your part in negotiations between the Werewolf packs and the Shadow Lord is over." The older werewolf turned towards the shadow representative, giving him a respectful nod. "That is very well played," he said with admiration.

       Remus thought he could detect a hint of a smile as the man replied. "Thank you but Gideon's presence here is merely a side issue and your desire to speak provided a convenient opportunity to give him back to your custody."

       "I did wish to speak," Remus said before turning towards the now named Death Eater. "Gideon, if you could please excuse us, I will be with you shortly and you have my word as a Pack Leader and member of the Order, I will not turn you over to the Aurors, the Unspeakables or to the Order but rather, since the shadows so obviously desire it, I will take you to the Gathering with me and from there, you can accompany any of the pack leaders to go where you will. At that point I suspect that should you desire to return to the Dark Lord, the Shadow Lord would be willing to confirm to your master that he had a hand in your rescue."

       The slight nod from the shadow representative was enough and Gideon bowed low towards him.

       "I lead to serve," Remus intoned the ritual phrase, heedless of their audience.

       "We follow to remember," the Death Eater replied before backing away to give them the appearance of privacy.

       The shadow representative waited a moment before making an encompassing gesture. "So what did you wish to discuss, Mr. Lupin?" the man asked, his voice light and friendly but giving no clue as to his identity.

       Remus took a deep breath. He'd thought about trying to approach the topic circumspectly but with the shadows unexpectedly bringing him the captured werewolf, which explained very nicely why the Ministry had gone quiet on their capture. Not even the Ministry was stupid enough to say they had captured a Death Eater who had been rescued probably a day or so later without significant fireworks given the complete lack of any disturbance or rumours. Announcing that type of escape would be so disastrous that even the Ministry knew that. It was a very transparent play from the shadows to garner support but one that made him feel better about his choice and he decided simply to go with the truth and to explain as simply as he could what he wanted and why.

       "You have managed to convince me," he began, "that an alliance with you is something that we should consider, something I will be pushing for. It's no secret that I would oppose the Dark Lord but with the Ministry's continued reluctance to give the werewolves any form of equality and their alliance with the Vampire Families, I have found myself unable to truly advocate that path for the werewolves. I will continue to serve the Order but my service will be my own, individually. Your offer and your actions have convinced me that the werewolf packs should ally with your forces, despite the rather anarchical path you wish us to declare in public.

       "I like to think that I will fight very hard for what I believe in, but with that said, I believe the majority of the Pack Leaders will be against this alliance because it is unknown. Never doubt your actions with Gideon will help but some will see the alliance that is assumed between the Dark Lord and the Shadows and will point out that you would have rescued Gideon without our alliance."

       "Eh... no they wouldn't have," Gideon interrupted. "I'm sorry Pack Leader but if the others assume that, they are wrong. The Dark Lord spoke to me after I was captured, and while he was regretful that I had been captured, he instructed me to collect as much information as I could, even then. He did say he would take care of my brother but he didn't once offer a rescue, not that I expected it."

       "Ah," Remus said in acknowledgement. "While that may be the case Gideon, some of the Pack Leaders will not heed that even when you tell them, so for the moment let me continue with my assumptions."

       "Yes, Pack Leader."

       Remus turned back to the shadow representative who hadn't moved during the brief break. "As I was saying, at least some of the pack leaders will, rightly or wrongly assume that you would rescue Gideon anyway because of your alliance with the Dark Lord. Gideon will convince some, but others will remain convinced of their assumptions.

       "Your case for an alliance is not hopeless though. The Blood Oath you have assured us of will also sway many towards viewing this alliance favourably, and combined with the rest of your original offer, I believe the pack will be split. This is not to say that you do not offer enough! I cannot stress that strongly enough, it is just that your path is completely new to us," Remus lowered his head as if ashamed.

       "My influence, such as it is within the Werewolf Packs, will at least ensure that your offer is considered fairly but I am never one to argue half a case and when I back something... well I'm honest enough to admit that when I back something, that is the outcome I want. I would ask therefore that you give me one more final piece of proof about your intentions to take to the Pack."

       "And that would be?" Sirius asked when the shadows prompted him.

       "You mentioned a charm that could be used in place of Wolfsbane potion to help a werewolf keep their human mind during the change."

       "I did, and I also mentioned that it had to be cast by someone of formidable power and even then it failed more often than not."

       "That is true," Remus acknowledged, ignoring Gideon's start of surprise at the possibility of a charm that would help during the change. Remus suspected Gideon had never had Wolfsbane potion given to him so the concept of being human during a full moon, even if not human shaped was something intriguing. "That is quite true," Remus repeated. "But I have done some research on that charm and must admit I had heard of _something_ like it but had always dismissed it as wishful thinking. My research though would indicate that even if the charm fails, so long as the werewolf in question was focused during the change, then they would feel some effects of it, right up until their desire to remain human was drowned by the pain. And that is when the charm fails.

       "I am certain that if cast on me, I will be able to see some effects of the charm, even if it ultimately fails and would therefore request that before the next full moon, the charm is cast on me. I believe that a combination of the effectiveness of the charm, your actions with Gideon and the loopholes you have generously allowed with this offer of alliance will convince most that your alliance is the path we should take but I believe that it will require all three to surmount the trepidation at taking the new path."

       The shadow representative nodded slowly. "Why not ask for Wolfsbane?"

       Remus smirked, "Because you could just buy it which proves nothing about your Potions Master, or your intentions. It just proves you have the galleons to get it."

       Sirius looked down reflectively. :He's got you there,: he said to the shadows.

       :We know,: they replied, unconcerned.

       :You want to cast the charm?: Sirius blurted mentally.

       :Well, yes, that's why he wanted to meet us,: the shadows said easily.

       :Then how do we get Harry here to cast it, without Remus recognizing him since if power is required he should cast the charm.:

       :Our master already cast the charm, Sirius,: the shadows said. :We are more concerned with this assumption of an alliance between the Shadow Lord and the Dark Lord. Will you give us control for a moment?:

       Sirius was mildly surprised but more amused to hear that Harry had already cast the charm on Remus so he held back his questions and let the shadows take control of his body. Like last time it didn't hurt and he could observe everything and he knew he could take control back at any time but it would be quicker if they could talk through him.

       "We are agreeable to casting the charm on you, Pack Leader, if you accept that this charm will not be as effective as having our leader cast it due to the differences in power."

       "That is acceptable," Remus said quietly.

       Sirius grinned tightly as the Shadows covered up Harry's pre-involvement rather neatly but they continued after a small acknowledgement of Remus' consent. "However we are concerned about this assumption of an alliance between ourselves and the Dark Lord."

       To everyone's surprise Remus just burst out laughing but before he answered, he brought out his wand being careful to keep the gestures public and non-threatening and cast a silencing charm between Gideon and himself. There were some things the younger werewolf did not need to hear. "You can say all you want that it is only rogue shadows dealing with the Dark Lord," the Pack Leader said, all traces of mirth disappearing. "But I am not stupid. The presence of the man who drove the Malfoy Death Eaters and the Vampires out of the Ministry speaks for itself. Either the Shadows are broken into two very powerful forces - those who support the Dark Lord and those who support the Shadow Lord, or they are one force, playing all sides of the game, with or without the Shadow Lord's knowledge.

       "But even if you enter into this alliance with the werewolves without the Shadow Lord's knowledge, I trust him enough to see that it will be honoured... Oof!"

       Remus was taken by surprise by the inhuman speed of the shadow representative when his legs were swept out from under him and something that felt like the Hogwart's Express slammed him to the ground and pinned him there. When he recovered he looked up with no small amount of fear to feel the tip of a wand between his eyes and the man's pitch eyes boring down into him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gideon sprawled on the ground in a petrificus totalus body bind, his eyes watching the proceedings even though the silencing spell meant he could not hear though Remus couldn't even feel a mote of relief at that as he was drawn back into the shadow representative's eyes. A moment ago they had been normal human eyes, black of course with white sclera, but now they were completely black and from the way they were tensed the shadow's representative was holding back some very powerful spells by force of will alone.

       "And what do you know about the Shadow Lord?"

       Remus looked up carefully. The voice was soft but full of menace and the wand between his eyes was stable as was the other hand that was latched on to his throat. Both his arms were pinned by the man who straddled his chest and with the angle that he'd fallen he couldn't even get enough leverage with his legs to attempt to get free. Even if he could the pressure forcing him down felt absolute.

       "I know enough to know that I trust him," Remus carefully reiterated the gist behind his last words.

       :Stop it!: Sirius screamed at the shadows, attempting to take control of his body back but they had gone from being playfully self-assured into enraged killers and their hold was very strong. For a moment Sirius was forced to wonder if these were really rogue shadows. :Stop it, stop it, stop it!: he continued to scream at them.

       :No,: they replied distantly to him. :He knows too much.:

       :That's not his fault! That's yours for not playing the game better!: Sirius felt faintly sick with himself, using the shadows term for what they considered this - a game - but one where they were on the verge of killing his best friend. He concentrated on trying to move his arm.

       "That is not important."

       "What is important?"

       "Can he trust you?"

       :Of course Harry can trust Remus,: Sirius cried when he heard his body ask the question, seizing on the opportunity to cast as much doubt as he could into the shadow's collective thoughts. :I'd be more worried about Harry trusting you lot right at the moment. He gave you permission to get the werewolves, he did not give you permission to kill his friend!:

       Remus apparently could see the distinction as well. "Is that can the Shadow Lord trust me, or can the shadows trust me?"

       "Can he trust you?"

       "Yes."

       The answer was unfeigned and sincere. And Sirius flung himself off Remus with enough force to send himself flying as he finally hammered his will through to his body, cutting off the shadow control. He hit a tree and slumped there, breathing heavily but brokenly as the fear he had felt but his body had not felt slowly began to ebb from him. The shadows didn't bother to apologize and oddly Sirius was thankful for that. Right at the moment he didn't want to hear it from them.

       Remus sat up slowly, still being careful to make sure his movements were not threatening as he moved to sit cross legged on the ground. "The day that the son of Lily and James Potter cannot trust me is the day after the universe dies," he enunciated clearly.

       Sirius said nothing, he was still too busy trying to get his breathing under control but the shadows flickered around him arguing amongst themselves. Some of them wanted to seduce Remus now, others were happy if he gave his word not to betray them. Another faction was saying that Sirius was right, it was their own complacency that had brought about this problem and Sirius was thankful that at least some of the shadows were being reasonable but there was another faction screaming that they should just kill the werewolf and deal with the consequences. Thankfully that suggestion, while it had been the driving force behind the pressure on Sirius to strike Remus, was very quickly quashed by the other factions who pointed out that their master would not be happy if they killed Remus and would likely be so unhappy that he would reject them. None of the factions wanted to risk that. With all the factions Sirius could hear arguing there was one thing they all agreed upon - they'd screwed up. As the silence extended as the shadow factions kept arguing, Sirius knew he had to say something.

       "They are... discussing their options," Sirius said and he knew as he spoke that Remus recognized the difference in his voice.

       "Oh?"

       "It appears they miscalculated."

       "Perhaps but I would prefer to think that an alliance is based on trust."

       "They prefer alliances based on mutual benefit with neither knowing too much about the other."

       "What do you prefer?"

       "Mutual respect," he shrugged, "and where possible, friendship."

       Sirius looked off to the side as the shadows argument ceased. For an instant he thought it was in response to his words but then a very soft but very powerful voice spoke. It was deep and echoy even though it was a singular voice and the canine animagus knew that this was one of the most senior shadows, one that was respected by the others.

       :We have miscalculated, this is true,: it began, :but the game is nothing without surprises, without challenges. Satisfaction in victory comes not from the certainty of its attainment but from the struggle and we have been inured of the struggle for too long. Now this is not a disaster. Of all the mistakes we could have made this one is the least of any. The werewolf is intelligent and we should have expected him to make the connection between our helpers and our master and then make the deductions based on actions. However, he has not gone running to the Order, he has not confronted our Master, he has merely carried on. I will grant, he could have been waiting for a time to blackmail us but this has not happened and we are forced now to deal with this issue.

       :We have been unaccountably _lucky_ ,: the shadow continued. :So far the Order has accepted that the help rendered to the Serpent Lord was given by rogue shadows, and that those shadows and their helpers will fall into line when they encounter our Master. If there was such a thing as rogues this would be true and we will have to make arrangements now for a few 'rogues' to be caught and submit to our Master in a more public way than the lie we spread earlier to cover our Master's mistake. This holds true of our helpers and of this particular helper. He has been seen to be doing our bidding at the Dark Lord's side, and is therefore, to most wizards one of the rogue shadows. He cannot be seen now to be doing the Shadow Lord's bidding without first being converted and that conversion should be public for maximum effect but I also believe we should make him the focus of rogue shadows, make him one of their primary helpers. This accounts for his power and will account for any other necessary actions. It is only because we have used this helper in this situation, where he has been now recognized as working for both the Serpent and Shadow Lord that has allowed the connection to be made and we will be far more careful in future.

       :We must now inform the Serpent Lord that he is not to refer to any alliance with the Shadow Lord. He has an alliance with the Shadows, but the Shadow Lord opposes him, which is the reason behind his desire to seduce our Master. Thus far the only people to know of the alliance between the Shadow Lord and the Serpent Lord are some of the Serpent Lord's ardent followers and those we have marked. The vampires know who the Shadow Lord will be and while Xeoaph doubts, he is not certain and in that uncertainty lies our power.

       :Now, for this werewolf, seducing or killing him would earn us our masters ire and the latter would most likely give the werewolves to the Serpent Lord. However it is his words that we can use to play this game. He has concluded that either we are one force playing all sides or we are two forces supporting opposites. To the Order, the Ministry, the Vampires and any who may oppose us, as of now we are two powerful forces - the rogues and the faithful. And to those we trust, those who know what we are we are one force, playing all sides of the game.

       :This werewolf has stated he trusts our Master, as well he should since our Master trusts him but we want him to trust us, trust that no matter which one he believes us to be, he trusts us, so we need to give him a reason to trust us, and then bind that reason to us. And that shouldn't be too hard.:

       Sirius got the impression that the old shadow was watching him with undisguised calculation and he suppressed a shiver. He'd agreed to help the shadows, he'd agreed to help Harry but he was not going to become an absolute slave, or some bit they tossed around only to dance to their purpose. :You'll have to give me a reason to trust you first,: he snapped with passion, their pervious actions not forgotten. :The only reason you didn't kill him is because I stopped you.:

       The old shadow chuckled as the calculation vanished to be replaced with a feeling of grudging but genuine respect and Sirius got the impression of true amusement, not at his expense but at the outrage he could feel from the other shadows at his statement. :It's been a while, Mr. Black, since we have had helpers rather than slaves,: the old shadow said. :And the term helper has come to mean much the same as seduced when it means nothing of the sort, so please forgive our actions earlier in trying to force you to an action that goes against your nature.

       :You are not one of the seduced, or else you could not have even voiced objection to us and you would quite happily cut your own throat with a dull blade if we so ordered it. No, you are a helper, Mr. Black, someone who has chosen to give his loyalty and trust to our Master and who we in turn recognize and assist, even as you assist us. The distinction means we should not have attempted to force.

       :This is not something we do for the Serpent Lord either, despite his allegiance with our Master. Well, it isn't something we would do usually... except for those dastardly rogues... who knows what help they will give him?:

       Sirius snorted but held up his hand to forestall the questions Remus would no doubt ask. :I do not forgive you,: he said to the shadows as a whole.

       :You do not?:

       :No. I do not forgive you,: he repeated. :I can only forgive you if you agree to two terms.:

       :Terms?: The shadows were wary and Sirius knew why. Dark and dangerous they may be, but they were honourable about keeping their word.

       :One, you never attempt to force me again and two, Remus is given similar status as a helper.:

       :Agreed to the first, but the second must wait until the werewolves ally with us and our Master gives his express permission, which we have no doubt that he will.:

       :All right,: Sirius agreed. :Now what?:

       :Now, we apologize to the good werewolf for attacking him, and explain why we are so protective of our Master, and generally do everything in our power to make sure they ally with us still,: the elder shadow said and Sirius nodded mentally in agreement. :If I may?: the shadow asked the canine animagus.

       :Yes,: he replied. They had given their word, and their word was their bond. They would not try to force him again.

       The shadow took control of Sirius' body and had him stand tall before bowing deeply to the werewolf. "We are sorry, Mr. Lupin. You surprised us greatly and we acted without thinking, and such a thing, against someone who we dearly wish as an ally is unforgivable, yet we find ourselves asking for your forgiveness."

       Remus had tensed as the man's eyes had turned pitch black again but his actions were placating and peaceful, though they carried the slight hint of nerves. The shadows were as changeable as the wind it seemed, one moment on the verge of killing him, and he knew they had been close to doing that, the next humbly asking his forgiveness... they were young, he realized as the man looked on with a faint expression of hope.

       "I wish to forgive you for the good of the werewolf packs but I wish to know why you deemed it necessary to attack me. Only then will I be able to decide if an alliance with something as... impetuous as you is in our interests."

       The shadows representative nodded before looking over at Gideon. The petrificus totalus had not worn off but he was still watching and still could not hear. A silencing charm had no physical presence but it was still effective and the boundary was still before the young death eater.

       "You are correct," the shadows said, and Sirius' felt his eyes widen slightly as they began to drop some of the distortion on his voice. "It was very impetuous of us and we apologize however we beg your indulgence to explain our actions and hope that in our explanation you will find that the alliance we wish is still in the werewolves' best interests."

       :What are you doing?: Sirius hissed.

       :Giving him a reason to trust us again,: the shadows replied. :Don't worry that young werewolf won't be able to see when it comes to that so it will be only to Remus that we do this... or do you not trust him?:

       :That's not fair!: Sirius complained. :You know I trust him, I just didn't think he'd find out this way.:

       :Neither did we but we wish to shield our Master still from some of what we will be doing.:

       :I thought he knew you were recruiting the werewolves.:

       :He does, but there are other things we will do that he will not find as... agreeable. The Dark Lord has said he will do anything to protect our Master but we will do anything to make sure of our victory and that is something entirely different.:

       Sirius nodded to himself. It was different and the shadows would protect Harry as well but their protection required his acceptance of them as did their existence as a power. They were bound to obey him no matter what his orders were. Even if they were 'Go away' they had to obey and Sirius knew that they did not want that. He saw the path the shadows walked with their master and resolved to try to help Harry as much as he could.

       Remus had noticed that the shadows voice was different. So far he'd heard two 'voices' from their representative, one that he attributed to the man beneath the mask and one he attributed to the power he represented. But they seemed to be showing him a third now and he didn't know why. "I will listen to your explanation," he said when they paused for his response.

       "As you have surmised for yourself, we are a very powerful force and while the wizarding world believes us to be two forces supporting opposites, and we are supporting that belief, you are correct in your other statement - we are one force, playing all sides."

       "Does the Shadow Lord know?"

       "Not everything," the shadows admitted, dropping more concealment. "He is very young and while he knows some of what we do, he does not yet grasp how completely we are involved in the game. He will before the year is out though and then he will be our Master and partner in everything."

       "Does he know about your offer to the Werewolves?"

       "Yes and we can see that you wonder how we will get the reforms we promised into the Ministry. We share your concern, getting the reforms into the current Ministry would not be possible but the current Ministry will not last much longer and their successors will either be more amenable to our suggestions or they will be replaced."

       Remus couldn't help but start at the sheer power behind the voice and the conviction it had... not to mention that they were advocating a whole sale slaughter of the Ministry.

       "Do not concern yourself, Mr. Lupin, there are many ways we can get our amendments through the Ministry into law, and we will chose one that is appropriate when it is required. We do not break our word."

       "So why did you attack me?" Remus asked. The information given so far was fascinating but didn't answer that direct question.

       "We made a mistake. We did not anticipate that anyone would connect our helper with our Master and therefore conclude that he was perhaps aware of more than has been suspected. It is obvious of course that we should have known, but we did not and we will protect our Master against anything."

       Remus laughed weakly. "I hadn't worked it out until just before," he said simply. "And while I know that it is believed there are only rogues helping the Dark Lord, this alliance comes from the shadows, and either you were acting completely independently of your master - something that was possible, or this was an offer from the rogues, or you are a unified force. Thus the conclusions were easy, once I remembered that this man had been the one to fight for the Dark Lord and not just remembered that and been happy at his ability to kill vampires."

       "Which was our mistake, in having this man come and, perhaps, in offering such a wide agreement to you. We should have used someone else, or not been... quite as encompassing as we were with our offer... but we want your allegiance and thus we have offered what we have and what we can deliver, rather than only a taste of what we can deliver."

       "So why did you not kill me to protect your master?"

       "I stopped them," Sirius said, his voice his own.

       This time it was Remus' turn to start back in surprise, and with a soft 'pluomuf!' he fell back into a sitting position staring up at the shadows representative. "Si... Sirius...?"

       "You were expecting someone else?" Sirius asked with a laugh. He turned his wand towards Gideon and muttered a gentle curse of darkness to conceal himself from the Death Eater, before sweeping his mask down and grinning broadly at his friend.

       Remus just watched on but suddenly a hundred little things - hints, phrases and actions - that his friend had made over the few months of summer made sense. Particularly strong was the memory of the talk they'd had in the meadow, the talk that had ended well before Harry had been attacked, before he'd discovered the vampire in Dumbledore's office.

       'Remus, don't... Don't make the same assumptions Albus has, that the world has. Harry is his own man. He is not his father. He will make his own decisions and live with the consequences. And so help us, we've put him in the position where we are going to have to live with the consequences as well.'

       "So this is what you meant when you said Harry wasn't the concept we perceived."

       "Not the best warning but I tried."

       "Well it's given me more warning than probably anyone else."

       "That's true."

       Remus looked down, ashamed. "I guess you've got questions..." he said quietly.

       "Yes," Sirius replied. "But since you've probably got the same questions about Harry's servants, I think our relative secrets are about equal, and I'm not about to hold you responsible for not telling me something that you were obviously not allowed to."

       Remus smiled, a genuinely relieved smile, all trace of annoyance or doubt about the shadows removed.

       "I spent too long in Azkaban doubting everything Remus, going back over what I should have done and what I shouldn't have done and how things should have been different to now doubt the few things I know with absolute certainty and one of those is that you are my friend, more than my friend and nothing you do will change that."

       "I don't... I don't deserve that."

       "Just so long as you know I don't deserve you either," Sirius said laughingly though his eyes were serious. "This is not something to doubt Remus and for now it is not something we can spend the night going over. I need to get back to the wilderness and you no doubt need to get back to the castle."

       The werewolf nodded before he looked around towards the shadows. "You know, if you'd have just told me that it was Sirius meeting with me the first time, you wouldn't have had to made such a generous offer to the werewolves, I would have carried and argued for the alliance just on the strength of that."

       "We know," the shadows said aloud, not using Sirius' voice. "But we want the werewolves' allegiance, all of them, not just the ones who will follow you... and there are more of those than you would think." They fell silent and relayed a few more things to Sirius.

       "Remus... they want me to tell you something. They can talk by themselves but it's not the easiest for them so for things like this they usually use someone else. They think that the werewolves will want to pick a pack leader this time, as in a Supreme Pack Leader for all the werewolves on the Isles. The shadows want you to know, they will back you for that. Not as a part of anything just because they will back you. No questions, no requirements or agreements or favor owed. Even if the werewolves decide not to ally with the shadows, they will still back you."

       "Why?"

       The shadows were silent and Sirius sensed there were many reasons they had come to this decision including the fact that they believed that Remus was one of the few pack leaders for whom the phrase 'I lead to serve' was more than just tradition but he went with the simplest. "Remus, these are Harry's servants... Do you have any idea how much grief he'd give them if you got hurt?"

       :Nice answer,: the shadows complimented him before they swirled, showing their agreement in the happy movements they made in the clearing.

       "All right," Remus said as he rose with a wire smile. "If the packs decide they wish to have singular pack leader, I will put forth my candidacy. Now, are you going to cast that charm?"

       Sirius nodded and pulled up his mask again as the shadows settled around him, once more masking his identity. He lifted his wand and removed the charms from the Death Eater werewolf before he bowed towards Remus, letting the young werewolf know that things had been resolved. The Death Eater was full of curiosity but seemed to accept that so long as the Pack Leader was unharmed and displaying no threatening gestures he could wait for his explanation and would not attack the other being.

       Without ceremony Sirius cast the reinforcement charm on Remus before he turned to Gideon. "We have sorted out our differences," he said formally, giving a nod towards Remus. "And as our business is completed, I bid you good night. Try not to get captured again, Gideon," he added with a wink before he apparated out.

       Remus watched the place Sirius had been standing for a moment. He wanted to talk much more but there was no time at the moment and they both knew it but that didn't stop the slight shaking in his hand.

       "Pack Leader, are you alright?" Gideon asked, forgetting that Remus was also one of the Order.

       Remus laughed weakly, looking down at his hand that was trembling. "I am fine Gideon, just very excited at this opportunity and possibility."

       "So you still wish to ally with them, even though they attacked you?"

       "Yes. That was a misunderstanding."

       "A pretty serious one."

       "True, but one that was resolved and I believe in that misunderstanding had lead to greater understanding and acceptance. I know more about them now Gideon and to argue for an alliance to the Gathering, that understanding is necessary."

       The Death Eater nodded. "A part of me wants to say you should argue to serve my Master, but since they rescued me, I'm somewhat split on where the werewolves should give our loyalty. I know they only rescued me because they want to get support but I am still thankful. Though I am now a bit worried. You are a member of the Order after all, and I am an escaped Death Eater and the Gathering isn't until after the moon."

       "That won't be a problem," Remus said. "I cannot support your choice in serving the Dark Lord but I will not turn you in. If we meet in battle then it will be something else but I will see to your wellbeing until the Gathering, after that, you are on your own."

       "I can accept that," Gideon said. "What about for the moon? You got that charm but I'll transform as usual."

       "When I was in school, there was a house I stayed in when I transformed. Since there will be two of us, I think I can control you and myself... even if the charm fails half way through."

       "You are going to have to tell me about them but not yet," Gideon said, rising and looking up at the moon. "Night is the time of the Death Eaters, but you probably have things to do tomorrow so we should get going."

       "That is true," Remus said with a smile. "I do have much to do and even more to think on," Remus said as he rose. Despite the surprises of tonight and the amount he had to consider, not to mention the very long conversation he wanted to have with Harry now, he felt good about the future.

       He looked up at the moon with a soft smile, :Sleep well, Sirius.:

 


	18. Memoirs of Summer

Weapon  
Chapter 18 Memoirs of Summer

===

       Dear Gin,

       Sorry I haven't written but summer and training has been intense. I can't say everything here and Dumbledore has said that I'm not allowed to see people over summer but I assure you, I will write and I will try to give you a fire call if I can.

       I know you didn't agree but I believe that doing what we did is the best... Do you want to know why? I think I'll tell you later... just because I know you want to know.

       Fawkes has been helping with my training. Do you remember how he carried us in the Chamber of Secrets? That's just a taste of what he is capable of. He's incredible and while it's not training I could just sit and pat his feathers for hours, just the same way that I could stroke your hair. They are so soft and while they may seem to burn they are cool. But you don't really want to hear about that, I know. I have been learning so much! The things you need to know for the animagus transformation are just amazing! Hermione's going to be jealous and I really have no idea how my dad and Sirius managed to pull it off in their fifth year... God... I've got some things to really live up to.

       How is everything going? I don't think there have been any attacks lately but I know they aren't telling me everything. It's frustrating! I'm not a child anymore, I know the Dark Lord is after me and I know he will do whatever it takes to bring the light down. I know this so why won't they tell me?

       I'm sorry Gin, for ranting at you but it is so frustrating! Not knowing just makes me want to know more... But this is not a very nice subject material for a letter.

       Thank you for the birthday present. I enjoyed the Treacle Tarts very much and I'm looking forward to thanking you properly. You can wonder exactly what that means until I see you. And that just reminded me of how much I miss you... oops...

       That was the reason why I think we did the right thing. With you always there I was used to it. I accepted it and I never thought about it because it was always there.

       Now that you're not there... I miss you and in the absence the heart grows fonder. I miss you. It's just a simple thing but it's the first step. I want to see you again because I don't want to miss you... Wow... that's confusing.

       I'm writing to Ron and Hermione too but say hello to everyone else for me. I've enjoyed not staying with the Dursley's but I'm disappointed that I won't be able to visit this summer. I promise though, once the war is over, I'll make up for that.

       Still missing you,

       Harry.

===

       Hermione,

       He wrote! He wrote! He wrote!

       I'm so happy!

       I almost thought he wouldn't but he wrote!

       It wasn't a love letter true but he said he's missing me so there is hope yet. Even with the war I can't wait to go back to school because I can see him. Ron would kill me for the going back to school bit so let's keep it our secret.

       I know we'll see you later in the summer but for now to answer the questions you asked, for some of them I just don't know. I know you asked me because you wanted a practical or the everyday view but these are things most wizards don't or don't want to think about.

       The last time the Dark Lord rose he was doing so secretly. This time it's open. At least that's what Mum and Dad are saying and they don't know what that means. And I know you can't find much information for research.

       I think it's something no one wants to think about much, which doesn't help any, I know. Things are different though this time. Things are very different so comparing You-Know-Who's first rise to this one will only cause confusion. Dad said that much clearly, I think because some of the Aurors tried exactly that and ended up in St Mungos.

       Now in relation to the Order of the Phoenix, it's always been there.

       All wizards know that on some level it exists, especially recently because they've been mentioned in the paper a lot but as to who they actually are and what they actually do, that's something that has been a mystery as well. They've helped to fight every major Dark Lord and so some members are identified but they usually keep to themselves. Yes, it is a secret order and we probably should be more wary but... that's the way it's always been.

       Dumbledore is a member, if not the Leader and that was confirmed during the Grindelwald wars. There is some more information becoming available and I'd say Harry, by now would know a lot. I think it's been assumed that he will become a member.

       The rest of the questions though... I'd rather not write an answer since there are a lot of little things implied with those questions. I'll talk to you when you come over. It'd be better that way.

       For now though is there anything I should say to Harry? I still feel when I look and speak with him that I'm only seeing a shade. He said he missed me but I want him to love me. That's different but I also don't want to drive him away. I told you how much it hurts and it's getting better but it still hurts. He misses me, but I miss him. I think he knows that... but I want to be sure.

       Ginny.

===

       Dear Ron,

       How is the summer progressing?

       My parents showed some interest in the year but I know they are still confused even after all this time. You'd think after five years they would have gotten used to the thought of me as a witch but while they accept it and are supportive, they are still surprised.

       It's good though that they continue to try but I found it scary when Father made a joke to ask if there was a potion for teeth cleaning. I don't think he quite accepted that there was a charm for this but he did give me an idea for a potion for tartar control. Just think about it as an extra strong teeth cleaning process that gets done once a year to remove the yellow bits on teeth.

       I wonder what Snape would think if I asked? Probably something about the arrogant Gryffindor know-it-all. There, I wrote it for you so you don't have to rant.

       I love my parents dearly but I am looking forward to coming over. I always learn so much when I stay with you. Your Mum's so great but I've written to you about that loads of times before. I wanted to ask you about something else though.

       I got a letter from Harry. I know you did as well but I wanted to know if you thought the same things about it as I did.

       It seemed, the letter I mean, hollow.

       Don't roll your eyes!

       Harry just seemed to write very methodically and his letter was almost cold. I know he's busy and I know he's training and I know he can't tell us everything but it seemed like he was avoiding the issues. And there are issues. You know that, I know that and for Harry's sake we have to deal with them.

       Don't roll your eyes and don't get huffy on me. I know you, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and I know what you are like which is why I want to talk to you about these things now. I'll talk to you more when I visit but I want you to think about some of these things now. I know I have been, but Harry's letter only made me worry more.

       This year, like it or not Harry is going to be the centre of attention, not just in school but probably for the whole of wizarding society and this includes the Dark Forces. He didn't ask for this and he's probably not going to like it much. We both know what he's like and we both know he never seeks this attention, it just happens.

       I'm saying this because I don't think we can have a repeat of fourth year. Harry almost naturally becomes the centre of attention and he's going to need support.

       During last year he didn't reach out much but we were there to help him. This year is likely to be the same but it's probably going to be even faster. He's going to need us Ron and we need to be ready before the request comes. This is not something we will have time to contemplate then. When he needs support, he's going to need support, no questions asked. This is just the way it's going to be, so I want you to consider that.

       Harry has never asked for the burdens placed upon him and yes the tasks he is asked to do are burdens Ron. He doesn't want the exposure that comes with it. Consider that as well because we are not going to have time this year to play games. When he needs us, we won't be able to question him and he should have no question about us.

       No matter what this seems like Ron, I'm not lecturing you and I'm not comparing you to Harry. You're different people and I don't regret any decision. I just want you to think about this so you won't regret your actions. And I think for now I've probably distracted you from the serious business of summer and the latest Quidditch results. Did you see Viktor's 'stats'?

       Got you, didn't I? I'll see you soon.

       Love,

       Hermione.

===

       Dear Harry,

       How's the summer coming?

       Must be awesome to stay at Hogwarts! The learning bit... You know, I'd almost be willing... no... no I wouldn't, would I?

       Eh, I don't really know what I want but while I'm sure it's good for you away from those Muggles, having to give up your entire summer to study must be suck... Oh... shit, I forgot!

       Sorry man.

       I hope those Muggles are safe and sound but that you don't have to go back to them.

       Although since you are studying this summer you can teach me all the cool stuff you learnt. Not the boring stuff though. I get enough of that in class.

       Hermione and I got our OWL results. I have never seen a woman so upset about a pass mark... I mean, I was just happy to pass, let alone achieving an outstanding OWL. Don't worry about your results, I overheard Dad saying something to Mum about a delay because they were checking things... Apparently you are news at the Ministry. So what else is new?

       Fred and George's inventions finally pay off though! That's how I could hear.

       Speaking of which... I was sad to hear that Sirius is off on a mission. Geez... that's hard... I'm so used to thinking of him as Snuffles but it's better that he can be Sirius. Of course, it would be better if he could be Sirius and stay at Hogwarts. What's he doing anyway?

       As for events here...

       Please don't send another letter to Ginny. She traipsed around the Burrow for five days solid before anyone managed to calm her down. It was ghastly. Fred and George have been working on something big and they've been coming and going almost like there was no tomorrow. They won't say a thing either, only that it's a surprise and to tell Mum not to worry. Well, since their clock hands aren't showing Mortal Peril unlike some others, she's been fairly good. Got other things to worry about.

       Bill, Percy and Dad's hands often go to Mortal Peril. Charlie's does as well if you watch hard enough but dealing with dragons... what do you expect? Percy's been practically living at the Ministry and at times I think Dad does as well but Percy's worse. I think he's trying to build a name for himself in the new Ministry... I wonder how much boot polish he ate... Although he should probably just ask Fred and George for help, they're bound to have cooked up something to help people like Percy. Heck! They probably brewed it up because of Percy.

       Mum and Dad said some odd things about Bill before they realized I was listening in. Nothing bad just confusing 'cos it was something about London... And before you lecture me about listening in I've had that from both Ginny and Hermione although I managed to shut Gin up by letting her hear as well.

       The things I have to do!

       Anyway, have you seen the Quidditch draw for this season? The Kestrals are up against the Butchers like about five times! It's gonna be wicked! They hate each other. I really don't know what the Board is thinking although I guess they want the season to be exciting... if it runs.

       There's been some talk about cancelling because of the Dark Lord but if we do that, that's almost admitting he's won. I hope they don't 'cos this season looks good and the Windmaster was going to debut this season...

       It's the successor to the Firebolt and I've seen some pictures and wow! I bet it could make a giant look like he was floating. It's so graceful. I'd love to see you fly it. I'd love to fly it but I'm not going to get depressed about that. I'd love to see you this summer but I probably won't, you know, with everything but even so, when we get back to Hogwarts you know we'll be there for you.

       Ron.

===

       Dear Hermione,

       Just a quick note to you. Is everything all right with Ron? When he wrote I got a full run down on his family, which I appreciate but he never once talked about the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Now that our chasers and beaters have graduated I would have thought that would be paramount or is he trying to claim that he never asked and thus could not have influenced me? Either way is good but it was surprising.

       More worrying was that he did not once make reference to a certain Slytherin and their dubious heritage. Check him for Imperio would you, please?

       It's just not right.

       I think I mentioned that Sirius is on a mission. I wish I know what it was since I got used to him being around and it feels... empty with him gone. I know it's important but... feelings don't respond well to logic. I miss him and Remus is busy with other things.

       I'm busy as well but there are times when I'd just like to hug Snuffles.

       This was meant to be quick!

       Everyone's assured me that there have been no attacks lately and while I can't feel him mostly it feels like he's building up to something. Dumbledore agrees, which is both a worry and a comfort. Whatever it is though, we'll just have to bear with it.

       I probably won't see you at Diagon Alley this year but I will see you at Hogwarts. Til' then, have fun with Ron's family.

       Later,

       Harry.

===

       Dear Professor Dumbledore,

       If I'm prying at things I don't need to know, I'm sorry but this is about Harry.

       He says his training is going well which I am honestly ambivalent about. I know that training and knowledge is going to help in the battle but it is the fact that it is for combat that worries me. It's not the issue here though.

       While it may be out of place for me to suggest this but with everything that's happening, in as much as possible, this year I think it would be good for Harry to remain in classes. He's not going to need it, I know, even I could see that at the end of last year's class but for the semblance of normality in his life, it would be for the best.

       Both Ron and I will give you and Harry what support we can during the year and would be happy to help with what we can.

       Ginny as well, I'm sure.

       Once again, I'm sorry if I am asking or implying things I shouldn't but Harry is my friend and I only want what is best.

       Sincerely,

       Hermione Granger.

===

       Dear Molly and Arthur,

       I am writing to you in the utmost confidence and expect you to take the necessary precautions to ensure that your children, the younger ones anyway do not find out about this until it is time. They mean well but such knowledge is dangerous and we must protect them from this for as long as possible.

       To business now, as I'm sure you have already determined the best methods of concealment.

       I'm sure you already aware of your daughters infatuation with Harry Potter. It both pleases me and saddens me to inform you that the relationship is mutual.

       Pleases me because I know both you and them will be very happy. Saddens me because Tom Riddle is not likely to be pleased with the concept of Harry's happiness and may take measures against your family and specifically, Ginny.

       Already I have placed extra warding around the Burrow but would urge you to initiate your own spells. I do not believe there is any specific danger yet, beyond the norm as both children have been discrete but I do unfortunately believe that it is only a matter of time before Tom finds out.

       Extra security has already been arranged for Hogwarts this year to keep the students safe and I will be writing to all parents to advise them of this. Additional guards will be assigned to Ronald, Ginny and Hermione, as they are known to be close friends of Harry. I would ask that you encourage them to be as supportive as possible and look forward to seeing your example to the community. I wish you a pleasant year with the expected familial Weasley alterations.

       Albus Dumbledore

===

       Harry-dear,

       It's been very quiet at the Burrow without you and we asked Dumbledore if you could stay with us but as I'm sure you've already been told, the assessment has been made that with the Dark Lord being so active in hunting for you, it is safer for you to remain at Hogwarts. We want you to come over Harry, we really, really do but I would never forgive myself if you were here and someone found you. Not that we'd let anything happen to you.

       Dumbledore has told Arthur and me that he won't be letting you go to Diagon Alley this year so if there's anything you need just let me know and I'll pick it up for you, though from what I've been hearing, I'm not sure if you are going to be needing the usual school kit.

       Arthur hasn't been able to say much but I'm so proud of you Harry! And I'm sure your parents would be as well but I am worried. With so much training, you haven't had the chance to be yourself so I want you to promise me that you will not just jump into anything. It's bad enough that Fred and George get themselves into scraps all the time but those I can deal with. You need to be careful Harry and remember that everyone here loves you. It would break our hearts if anything happened to you. It worries me to death that it will fall to you to fight the Dark Lord and that just makes me want to protect you more. You are too young for this and you didn't get much of a childhood with those Muggles and so it's not fair for you to be burdened with this fight from a previous generation.

       Yes, that's what this is. A fight you should never have been burdened with but we are with you Harry, every step of the way.

       I'm not sure if Dumbledore has told you but while it's been agreed that it's too dangerous for you to be out and about this summer, he will let you on to the train so I expect to see you on Platform 9 and 3/4's to get a good look at you.

       Love,

       Molly

===

       Dear Mrs. Weasley,

       I would have loved to come to the Burrow as well but you are correct. Dumbledore explained why I couldn't and I would not be happy if something had of happened to anyone while I was there either, even though that didn't make me miss you all any less.

       I haven't received my OWLS yet so I haven't managed to pick subjects and I don't know what I will need at Diagon Alley. I know they, my OWLS, were something... unusual, and I know I will be helping the Aurors and the Order this year, it's been decided that I should try to keep going to school as much as possible. And I can't say that I'm unhappy about that. So thank you for the offer to pick up what I need but at the moment I just don't know.

       On the subject of the war, unfortunately this is my war. A certain someone whose name begins with a V decided that for all of us and so I have no choice and ask that you forgive the danger that is inherent in you and your children associating with me. I can only think of one way of preventing that and if you or your family wish to take that option then I will understand. I don't have a choice but to fight in this war, you do. I thank you for the opportunity to get to know everyone and hope that when it's over I can come back to the Burrow.

       I hope I can say goodbye to you all on the Platform.

       Sincerely,

       Harry.

===

       _HARRY JAMES POTTER!_

_IF YOU THINK FOR ONE INSTANT THAT ANY MEMBER OF OUR FAMILY WILL ABANDON YOU IN THIS WAR THEN YOU ARE VERY MUCH MISTAKEN! AND IF YOU DO NOT STOP MOPING AROUND THINKING THAT YOU ARE ALONE THEN I WILL PERSONALLY COME TO HOGWARTS AND HUG YOU INTO SUBMISSION._

_YOU ARE A PART OF OUR FAMILY, AND WE DO NOT ABANDON OUR OWN SO DON'T YOU FORGET IT. IF I HEAR ANY MORE RUBBISH ABOUT YOU LEAVING US THEN..._

_I'D BETTER NOT HEAR ANY MORE RUBBISH ABOUT YOU BEING ABANDONED. WE ARE IN THIS WAR TOGETHER AND IT IS TOGETHER WE WILL FIGHT AND TOGETHER WE WILL BE._

_THAT IS THE END OF IT._

_===_

       Dear Ron,

       Please tell your mother not to worry. I don't want to abandon anyone but at the same time I didn't want to force you into a position that was untenable. Ask Hermione what that means.

       Ron, training has been good but there is still many a risk in war and I don't want lose anyone. I don't know if that's possible but I hope it is. The choices we make will define the future and it is that future that we must work towards but I know that some of the choices will be difficult and some will not be seen as the best. That lack of certainty though is something that we must live with, the same as we must live with the consequences of our choices and actions.

       This is an unusually grim letter I know and I am sorry but these things must be said. I want us to continue to be friends but there are choices that have to be made this year that may drive us apart. I can promise you Ron though, my intentions may not always be clear but the choices I make are the choices I want and are the choices I believe lead towards the future I want. And that future will not be what people expect.

       I can only make the choices I think are best Ron and I hope you trust me enough to understand that. You can always ask me but sometimes I won't be able to answer though in time everything will become clear. That much I promise if you stay with me. Even if you don't, it will become clear. The choices I have already made can't be hidden forever.

       I'm not begging you to; I'm asking you to trust me and to stay with me. That is all but the choice is yours Ron.

       Harry.

 


	19. Back to School

Weapon  
Chapter 19 Back to School

===

       Auror Captain Sturges sat in his office quietly. He'd dismissed his staff earlier and he had meant to be home by now but he'd been thinking. There were many things happening at the moment and most of them concerned defeating the Dark Lord. The Ministry had made peace with the Vampires, true, with the help of the Order of the Phoenix and they were in negotiations with the Goblins and trying to negotiate with the Veela, merpeople and almost any non-human sentient who could fight. He'd heard rumours that the Unspeakables were even trying to contact phoenixes, unicorns and other traditionally light side magical beasts for their aid. It was unprecedented and it was leading to a good feeling.

       But, despite all their efforts, the dark forces just kept doing what they wanted.

       A case in point; the werewolf.

       They'd captured him, and were holding him in custody, questioning for any information that would help. And then a single dark wizard waltz's into their Headquarters, stalks through the corridors like he owned them to the cells and had released the werewolf. They'd then gotten to a floo point and had floo'd away before apparating. And of course, while the floo travel had eventually been tracked by the time they filled out all the paperwork and gone through a heap of diplomatic hoops to get access to the floo-out point, the apparition trail had been erased. It hadn't been masked as most usually did to hide their magical signature, it was as if the apparition trail wasn't even there, or as if no one had apparated from that point. The Unspeakables had used some ceremony and had assured them that the apparition point had been there, though they couldn't find anything else. The apparition point was confirmed by the muggles who'd _seen_ the prisoner escape in the custody of that dark wizard.

       Sturges been in a rage at the thought of muggles seeing their prisoner until one of the Unspeakables had taken him aside and explained why this place was on the floo network, which in turn had explained why the diplomatic hoops and paperwork had been so tedious for what should have been a high priority but routine part of the investigation. True the Ministry had to work with the muggle governments but he didn't necessarily like the fact that there were some high level muggles connected to the floo network. Worse than that, what if the dark wizard had of taken them hostage? _Then_ how would anything have been explained?

       But apparently the dark wizard either didn't know or didn't care, though given that the wizard knew about the floo point, it was more likely that he picked that floo point because he'd knew the confusion it would cause in the Ministry and that confusion had given him the time to erase the apparition trail. The Unspeakables were putting in more security for the muggles.

       The rescue of the werewolf raised more questions than it answered and Sturges resolutely put any thoughts of the muggles or the apparition trail out of his mind. It was the Unspeakables job to now ensure the security of the muggles and he didn't want to know and with the lack of anything at the apparition point chasing their escapee became pointless. That left them studying what security pictures there were of the dark wizard. He'd been over every picture with Shacklebolt and had even surreptitiously created a copy for the Auror, knowing full well he'd take it back to the Order.

       Not that they had learnt much about the wizard in question. Ironic as it was, it was about now that Sturges wished that they could get some of the Muggle security things working in headquarters, but the press of magic was just too strong for any of the devices. They were left with fixed point photos, not those... video camera's he thought they were called. So, they'd tracked the dark wizard through their headquarters but didn't have any evidence of what he'd _done_ to avoid detection. That was the most disturbing thing. It was disturbingly obvious that he knew the ward codes to break out of the apparition point, the fact that he'd then just _walked_ through the corridors was worse. They had gone over the corridors with the finest sensors they could afterwards and had detected _nothing_. The wizard had apparantly just walked through the corridors, that had been on high alert and had cast no charms to conceal himself? That was not possible yet it was what the evidence was pointing towards.

       Beyond a few charms to unchain the werewolf and the magical signature on those was unuseable due to the silver, it appeared that the wizard had done no magic and had still been able to avoid all the Auror's searching for him. Sturges shook his head. They knew who the wizard was, well, they knew where he had appeared previously, in the Atrium, protecting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but they knew nothing beyond that. They were no closer to finding out who lay behind that mask. Surprisingly though, one thing they were reasonably sure on was that the dark wizard was _not_ a Death Eater. Even their werewolf captive had confirmed that during his brief incarceration. As the werewolf had said, no Death Eater would be allowed their own mask. And that of course lead to more questions.

       Was You-Know-Who allied with other forces?

       _Who_ was stong enough to ally with him? And more importantly, _what_ did they want?

       Would it be possible to either break the alliance or buy them off?

       All those questions had been asked to the werewolf and while he'd confirmed that the Dark Lord was allied with _something_ he hadn't been able to give more details than that. He just hadn't known. Not surprising since they'd known that the werewolf was merely a footsoldier. Baross had been in charge of that but Sturges, like all Auror Captain's, was dealing with the fall out.

       One thing the werewolf had confirmed though was that the werewolves as a whole had not yet sided with anyone. They were still deciding though given the way the media had played up the capture, there was likely to be only one side the werewolves would now consider. He'd said as much to Shacklebolt and the Order Member had merely nodded sadly. "Remus hasn't said anything," Kingsley had said, "but I get the impression that while he will help individually, the werewolves as a whole will side with the Dark Lord. They won't come to the Ministry for anything less than what the Vampires have, and you know as well as I do that while that is due to the werewolves, with this Death Eater being captured, that's not going to be possible." Kingsley was politically astute and that was the reason he was Sturges chose successor should anything happen to him.

       Besides, someone from the Order would no doubt need to be dealing with Sirius Black and Harry Potter. Sturges shook his head again, bemused. His thoughts would not settle tonight. Thankfully the disposition of Mr Potter as a potential combatant for the Ministry had been given to him. There were a couple of Aurors who were quite literally rubbing their hands together in glee over Mr Potter's preliminary school results and they were doing that, not because of the skills Mr Potter would bring to the fight but because of Mr Black's statement that Mr Potter's future not be jeopardized. With the results Mr Potter had shown, his future was more than assured and Mr Black had outsmarted himself somewhat. Still, those Aurors _had_ to come to him and Sturges had made it quite clear that anyone going outside of the channels of communication would have to deal with him.

       Though that did now leave him with a problem. Mr Black was realist enough to know that even if he didn't want his Godson fighting, Mr Potter had no choice while He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was targeting him specifically, so it was better to actively fight back than attempt to set up some sort of protection. Though, they couldn't just have Mr Potter running around lose on the field. That would completely confuse any manoeuvres.

       The only logical thing was to give him some sort of official status.

       And that would cause an uproar!

       The thing was Sturges couldn't see any other way to do this though. The young Mr Potter may be a member of the Order of the Phoenix but technically that organisation didn't exist and even if the Ministry admitted to it's existence membership of that organisation or any organisation did not grant any Ministerial rank. And to be given orders and to be expected to carry them out, Mr Potter was going to need that. But there was no way, phenomenal results or not, that they could give him the position of an Auror and Auror-trainee rules specifically prevented combat. So with the current system there was little Sturges could do to fit Mr Potter into the existing power structures.

       Unless... a thought formed deep in his mind, whispering gently, so softly that it almost wasn't heard but Sturges was used to following those little pulls of instinct. They'd saved his life once or twice so when he felt that subconscious tug, he tended to pay attention. Mr Potter couldn't fit in the existing power structures, so therefore the power structures needed to change.

       Not greatly. Sturges wasn't so stupid as to attempt a major overhaul in the middle of an impending war. But just enough that they could fit Mr Potter into the Auror teams and have him work with them, enough so that there would not be a loose cannon on the battle field. If Mr Potter couldn't be an Auror-trainee and there would be too much political outrage to make him an Auror in full then they needed a new position.

       Auror-Apprentice.

       Sturges smiled somewhat ironically at the thought. There was little doubt in his mind that if things hadn't been quite as stressed as they were, then Mr Potter would have been apprenticing to _someone_ to gain Mastery in some of his stronger disciplines and most likely one of them would have been Defence against the Dark Arts so perhaps the position of Auror-Apprentice should follow the general layout of a normal Apprenticeship, except in this case, Mr Potter would be subject to the orders of his Auror Master in battle. If they worked it out right, he could possibly even work on a Mastery.

       Sturges closed his eyes as he fleshed out the idea further in his mind. Pending further inspiration from one of the other Auror Captains, he would propose this idea, that of an Auror Apprentice to them as the solution to one Mr Potter and his guardian, Mr Black. Now there was something...

       Mr Black had been an Auror... to sweeten the deal, that status could be returned, in fact it _should_ be returned and with the official position, Mr Black could then be one of the Auror Masters Mr Potter answered to. There would have to be another of course, himself perhaps, or maybe Kingsley... That would satisfy both the Order and the Ministry at the same time. Hopefully it would satisfy Mr Potter and his guardian.

       Feeling more at ease, Sturges stood and flicked his wand around his office, extinguishing the lights. In the sudden deep shadow he stepped up to the glowing remains of his fire and threw the floo powder in to return home, never noticing how the shadows watched and waited and smiled at his choices.

===

       Harry smiled as he apparated to Platform 9 and 3/4's. It certainly felt better to arrive on the Platform that way and while this was the first time he had been allowed off Hogwarts grounds since summer began, he was actually content with how things had progressed. It might have been nice to go to Diagon Alley and see everyone while picking up his school supplies but his training, he didn't want to call it education because it wasn't, his beloved had already educated him in most of the important things, what he was doing at Hogwarts was training, learning to use that which he already knew and that was also important.

       Besides, he'd have the entire journey back to Hogwarts to catch up with them. And the train trip would be relatively unchaperoned. Dumbledore had explained that yesterday when he had called Harry into his office for an end of summer review.

       Harry had spoken to the Headmaster at various times over summer and the ancient wizard had seemed pleased at his progress. They'd discussed many things during the warmer months, including the overall plan for this year. The Headmaster had been frank on a number of topics but evasive on others and while Harry could see that the man was trying, he was still too set in his ways and played too many cards to close to trust completely.

       If nothing untoward had happened in his life, Harry was sure he would have trusted Dumbledore, but he was not a helpless child anymore and he was not someone who would be pushed around. He would walk his own path and the others would just have to follow. It was because the ancient wizard was blind to some pain that he could not be allowed to continue. The man though would not step aside. He was too used to power, which meant the only way was force. When Harry had been a child he hadn't liked violence. He still didn't like it much now, but he recognised that there were times when there was no other choice. This was one of them. The Headmaster had to be removed from power and there was no way of doing it except by force. Only then would the pain of the past be put to rest.

       After Harry had mastered his Animagus form, the Headmaster had begun relaying some war information but he had kept some key facts to himself. Thanks to Harry's servants, he was relatively well informed and he wasn't sure if Albus was keeping the information from him as a test of his abilities or out of some other misguided desire to give Harry a childhood.

       The war was going as well as could be expected. Auror training had been stepped up and the treaty with the vampires was proving to be a boon. Vampire and Order of the Phoenix task forces had made some successful attacks and were penetrating the Dark Lord's network. The Ministry was busy scrambling for support and had offered treaties to several species. The Goblins were holding out, as were the Veela and when told of this Harry had asked about the Werewolves. His question had been deflected. Harry took that to mean that the Werewolves had not been offered anything official.

       Idiots! Harry thought and had said as much. Dumbledore had just said it would work out and Harry had nodded though he knew it wouldn't. The wizards always seemed to ignore the things they really needed and this time it would cost them.

       The Headmaster and Harry had discussed wizarding law as well, what the rules were about using particular charms in combat and what the various punishments were. Harry had been amazed at how simplistic the rules were. Illegal spell use was just that. It was up to your lawyer to present extenuating circumstances but it was the punishments for assault that surprised Harry. There was almost no punishment for assaults providing no permanent physical damage was inflicted. And given that St Mungos could heal a awful lot that meant quite a few assaults went unreported. Emotional damage was not considered. Sexual assault was not even mentioned.

       And no one seemed to consider this a problem.

       In fact the only reasons Heprah had been sentenced was because one, Harry had been a child, two, Harry was the wizarding world's saviour, The-Boy-Who-Lived and three, Dumbledore had insisted. What it told Harry though was that even if he reported Blaise and Millicent, nothing much would happen. Blaise would probably not even get a slap on the wrist, since after all, he'd actually done nothing, while Millicent would probably get a lecture about proper behaviour for a lady and it would be left at that. If Harry was lucky, someone would offer to obliviate him and that would happen only if the judge recognised the fact that men could be raped as well. If Dumbledore thought Harry was going to accept that as tepid justice then he had a lot to learn. The ancient wizard thought, somewhat unconsciously that if the physical damage was healed then everything else would heal. And that because of the healing, those who perpetrated these matters should be given another chance and should be forgiven by their victims.

       Life and human emotion didn't work like that.

       Wizarding laws had some unforgivable gaps. While discussing the system with the Headmaster they'd actually worked out that Voldemort could legally run to be Minister so long as no family pressed charges. There was no such thing as the people in the wizard court. The Ministry was a legal entity but the individual still bore responsibility. It made for a very interesting dynamic and Harry wasn't going to risk that system, not when he had other paths to justice.

       The other interesting talk he'd had with the Headmaster had been about his results. Harry knew Lord Voldemort had given him knowledge but even he'd been surprised by how much even if he didn't know exactly what his results were. He didn't have to go to school any more but both Harry and Dumbledore had agreed that him attending classes and doing normal teenage things was for the best. He would fight when called upon because it wasn't like missing a class would hurt his results.

       The ancient wizard had also brought up another theory, that while the Dark Lord was alive, Harry's 'other' knowledge would exist but when he killed the Dark Lord then that knowledge may also die and if that was the case he could continue his classes so if that did happen then Harry wouldn't be too far behind. Harry had agreed with continuing classes, not because he needed it but because he had had enough of being singled out. Attending class would be normal for him and that's why he was enrolled in all the classes you needed for Auror training. He might have wished to give up potions but it was required. Harry supposed though that since he'd put up with Snape over summer, he could put up with him in class. If nothing else he could watch his servants in action.

       And so that's why Harry was now waiting on Platform 9 and 3/4's as the Aurors ran some final security checks. If he was attending Hogwarts this year then he was going to enjoy the fun stuff as well and the train ride would be safe enough.

       After the months of summer he wanted to see his friends again too. They'd written but letters weren't really the same and he needed to see them. It was all he could do to keep from running out to the Muggle side to meet them at the front of the station.

       "Relax Harry," Remus said with a smile laying one hand lightly on the boys shoulder. "It is early yet and they will be here," he added the reassurance.

       "I know but I want to see them."

       The werewolf chuckled. It was at times like this that you forgot Harry's power and saw him only as the eager adolescent waiting for his friends. This was the young man he was meant to be; open, happy and joyful. And then he made the switch, turning to look at him with eyes that were old.

       "Thank you for everything, Mooney," Harry said, his voice soft with sincerity but laced with power. He wasn't given thanks for Remus' presence now either.

       "I haven't done anything yet," Lupin replied. The full moon was in a day or so, and the Gathering was after that. He'd actually avoided speaking with Harry about that since that would just make the tangled mess that was the current arrangement that much more complicated. That kept a level of professionalism and distance.

       "You will," Harry said confidently. "And you already have," he added, referring this time to the lessons Remus had supplied over summer. Combat theory, practical dualing, operational planning, survival techniques and tips and some classic sword work. A lot of Lupin's skills were born of necessity and that made him the better teacher. While he had no formal Auror training, on account of his furry little problem, most of the older Aurors and Order Members recognised his skill. There had been no objections to his teaching.

       "If you can thank me for that," Remus said his own voice formal but quiet enough not to carry, "I can thank you for what you have also done."

       "I have done anything yet," Harry replied.

       "You will," Lupin said and they both laughed, the formal air vanishing with the mirth and to the first arrivals they looked like a father and son laughing at some shared joke.

       "Later," Harry mouthed to Remus when a moment later, miraculously early a pile of red heads appeared through the barrier. There was a moment of relative silence before a cacophony of happy shouts; shouts that were soon muffled by hugs. It appeared that almost the entire clan had come to see their two youngest off.

===

       Harry had a moment to take in all the redheads before he was engulfed in a huge bear hug.

       "Harry!" Ron shouted happily, pounding his back. "It's so good to see you," the young man said as the rest of his family approached more sedately but all had pleased expressions. Mrs Weasley stepped up to him, shooing Ron away as she looked Harry over closely.

       "Being at Hogwarts agreed with you," she murmured as she pulled him into a hug, which Harry returned though after a moment he gasped. "I need my ribs!"

       The others all laughed as Mrs Weasley released him. Fred and George held their hands out to him and Harry shook them simultaneously before he turned and smiled at Ginny. She was obviously trying not to impinge upon his space and he saw her face fall slightly as she interpreted the smile as one of friendship only.

       "I missed you," Harry said softly.

       Ginny's eyes widened slightly before she returned his smile. "I missed you too," she replied carefully, her voice soft yet firm.

       Inner Harry was pleased he hadn't been too familiar with her but then his other self reached out a hand, taking Ginny's subtly but with care. The girls expression changed from well hidden disappointment to barely contained elation in an instant. Inner Harry snarled soundlessly but his shell self just continued talking with Ron, the Twins and Mr and Mrs Weasley as if nothing was amiss.

===

       Dumbledore and Xeoaph watched as their weapon met his friends for the first time this school year. They did miss any nuance of Harry's reactions and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled wildly as he watched Harry reach out to take the young Miss Weasley's hand.

       Fawkes had been right it appeared. Harry did know love but he also knew how dangerous it could be to be advertising his feelings and he also knew discretion. Beside him the Headmaster heard a soft breath of realise. Apparently the vampires had been worried about something as well but whatever he'd seen had been sufficient to at least calm some fears.

       "He would not have been inducted into the Order if he did not have the capacity to love," Dumbledore murmured to his ally. "But young Harry knows more than just the capacity," he finished.

       Xeoaph looked at the old wizard sharply, his thoughts hidden. "All humans have the capacity," the vampire elder agreed. "But I have yet to see proof of his love. This is a start but I am wary. And will remain that way until it is proven otherwise. We cannot afford to be wrong."

       Dumbledore said nothing. In due course, despite the death of Xeoaph's childe, and the shadows attack, the vampire elder would see that Harry was true to the Light. Fawkes had looked into his soul and had felt the blinding purity of the emotion. Albus had looked into Harry's eyes and seen the strength of desire. Harry was of the light and he would be their weapon. The fact that he could still love and laugh and cry with friends, the fact that he had friends and not minions was just further proof and for the ancient wizard it was a source of relief. Harry had all that, which meant he had a reason for living and a reason to continue when things got difficult. Miss Granger had expressed her desire to help and Dumbledore suppressed a smile as the young witch appeared. The young muggle born would have her chance to help though it may not be as easy as she thought. Even so, her presence, like that of Mr Weasley and Miss Weasley may in the end, tip the balance.

       Tom understood rage, he understood lust and he had a vague understanding of friendship but only in so far as one could use another. But Tom absolutely could not comprehend love. And that would be his downfall, just as it had been those years ago. This time though, his death would be permanent.

       The Headmaster looked around the platform watching as others greeted their friends under their parents watchful eyes and loaded their trunks on to the train. There was a boundless joy in some, nerves from the first years and a few odd patches of solitude, grief and loneliness. Albus' eyes hardened for a moment as he took them in. With Tom's strike and subsequent activity over the summer and Lucius' Rebellion, the Ministry had been forced to step in to provide guardians for some of the children who just didn't have a family who could take them in. Usually magical children were more than welcome with other family but there had been too many losses and in some cases whole branches of some clans had been entirely wiped out. There were too few familial ties remaining or too many factions who just didn't want to associate themselves with another.

       And thus the Ministry had stepped in. Children below Hogwarts age were formally adopted out to any wizarding line who would take them, while those of Hogwarts age were given a guardian, someone who on a part time basis oversaw their needs and kept them from too much trouble. These children now lived in a boarding house like arrangement where meals were provided. It was up to the individual guardian to ensure clothes and school supplies were purchased. Most of the funding for this came from the inheritance of the children.

       It had been a near thing with the vote in the Wizengamot but it had been decided that the cost of the orphans care would come from a percent of their inheritance. One percent for every year they remained in the Ministry's boarding houses. The precedent had of course been set by Hogwart's because that was a long standing tradition that tuition fees were paid for by the estates of those that could afford it.

       Mr Potter was a prime example. His yearly fees were duly deducted from the familial vaults of the Potter clan as soon as Mr Potter attended the first class of the year. In the case of those children who had no inheritance, the Ministry had decided on a low interest loan system whereby once the child reached maturity a portion of their wages would be deducted and paid to the Ministry for the cost of their room and board. Of course should a relative or interested family come forth and adopt one of the orphans then the deductions or amount to be repaid would cease. It was one of those systems no one really liked but everyone knew was necessary and so far it had worked acceptably but time would tell.

       Some of the border children were happily conversing with friends but others were isolated. Dumbledore recognised some as the offspring of Death Eaters loyal to Tom, some not. He would have to make an effort to reach out to these children this year to show them that there was a choice and that they did not have to follow in their parents footsteps. As he noted some faces, the Headmaster looked around for another face. It took a moment for him to find the one he was looking for.

       Mr Malfoy was not isolated. He stood with a small group of friends talking and laughing as per usual. Their parents chatted nearby and Dumbledore wondered what they were plotting. If he was honest with himself he had been expecting one of two outcomes for Lucius' wife and son. The first was their execution on Tom's orders and the second was them just disappearing. With the later disappearing in servitude or execution was much of a muchness. Neither option had happened yet and that was somewhat curious. The old wizard doubted they could have or even would have paid off Tom since even if not directly involved Narcissa and Draco must have had some hand in Lucius' plans. Yet they were both here as if nothing was wrong. He would give them both full credit for blatant blazonism if nothing else but Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder how they had managed this feat and what action, if any, Harry would take this year. Despite urging the boy had not yet spoken about the attack but the perpetrators were obvious. Nothing could be done until or unless Harry at least started the proceedings. The Gryffindor had been told of this, numerous times but had yet to speak.

       Beside him Xeoaph chuckled noticing his regard. "I'm pleased to see the Malfoys," the vampire said, "though I am also amused."

       "Oh?"

       The elder vampire gestured. "Their appearance, the fiction that all is well, when it is most definitely not. They are not stupid enough to believe that they can continue as they have been or that they can return to the Dark Lord's fold yet they gave that appearance. They are playing another game."

       "They are continuing what Lucius began?" Dumbledore asked with a note of genuine surprise colouring his tone.

       "I do believe they are going to try," Xeoaph replied.

       "We must put a stop to that," Albus frowned. "Another force will just confuse the issue."

       "Perhaps, but another force would weaken the Dark Lord so for the moment, I suggest we leave them be, leave them to see what annoyance they will provide to the other dark forces. They won't win," Xeoaph said confidently. "They don't have the strength, but they may prove a sufficient thorn, that will at least give us an advantage. Make no mistake, Dumbledore, they are a distraction. The Dark Lord is the real threat and everything must be geared to removing him."

       Albus nodded. "We will watch them but we must not become distracted by them and care must be taken to ensure they no longer affect Harry. I know who did it, I know who arranged it, but nothing can be done until Harry gives the word and thus they must be separated for the moment, from him and from others."

       "Yet you are allowing this journey," the vampire gestured.

       "I am, because I have no wish to segregate Harry further from wizarding society."

       Xeoaph nodded. As usual necessity warred with necessity and the most economical reality won. "I could always deal with them," he murmured, watching as the children boarded the train, waving frantically at those they'd be seeing in a mere six months. Mortals were so... transient.

       Dumbledore smiled, though his smile displayed his resignation. As tempting as it was to let the vampire go with his suggestion they both knew that such an action would be disastrous to their alliance. The press would just scream about it, ignoring what the perpetrators had done and that would just fracture wizarding society, igniting the traditional anger towards anything non-human and it would probably also further spur on those who believed that halflings should not be allowed into society. No... no matter how neatly it might resolve the situation, the Headmaster could not go with the vampires suggestion.

       The Leader of the Light and one of the ancient elder vampires went back to watching as the students continued to board the Hogwart's Express. So far everything was quite but they both know how fast the tide could change.

===

       Harry sat in his train compartment, quietly watching his friends. They'd corresponded over the summer but it really wasn't the same and, while he'd missed them, he hadn't been lonely. That was something they didn't need to know though; not yet, not until he was sure of them. He was almost sure they would stand with him, but in this game, there was one thing he had learnt well from the Serpent Lord: that in respect to followers, almost sure wasn't good enough.

       Not that he thought of his friends as followers. They were his companions, his friends, and he needed and wanted them to stand with him. If this had happened a few years back, he wouldn't have been as insistent on giving them this chance, but he had grown up and they had grown up and hopefully the pettiness of the past was just that. Past. He would know soon enough.

       He was currently sharing a compartment with Ron, Hermione and Luna. Ginny and Neville were just checking on one of two others, but had been here earlier. Harry closed his eyes briefly, pretending to doze a bit as he thought.

       Ginny had been...tolerable. At least she hadn't jumped all over him which was something. She seemed to accept that if they were to rebuild a relationship then it had to be slow. She couldn't rush him and so her greeting to him on the platform had been jubilant but restrained. It was the greeting of a close friend, but not a lover and that for the moment suited Harry perfectly. She'd whispered to him since "I don't care if you love him, Harry, and I don't care that I'm not your first love; all I want is to be one of your loves." The statement was telling but still clinging even if her actions were not. He could love her, he would love her and he did love her. It was just that the part of him that loved her was not the man he would be, and somehow he didn't think she would accept that. While he needed her for cover, he was going to have to tread carefully. There was nothing quite as stupid as being betrayed by a jilted lover. He was not going to let her be that way.

       Neville had also been interesting when he'd seen Harry at the station. The other boy had looked at his friend very closely and Harry could almost sense that he was being measured, but then Neville had smiled and the feeling had vanished. It had been odd but Neville had just greeted him as per usual, holding Trevor as if nothing was wrong. There was something going on there and he would find out what. Perhaps not today and maybe not tomorrow but the behavior would be explained. The shadows had giggled at him but refused to say anything about Neville. It was their usual annoying trait when they knew something useful to him that would eventually transpire. He let them get away with it because it kept them happy. The shadows had once told him they would do what it took to keep him happy because that made getting what they wanted easier from him, but the reverse was also true so he let them play these little games because they gave freely of the important information.

       Luna had been and was being her usual self, which meant he hadn't understood her greeting, and Hermione was sitting there with an exasperated look on her face as Luna read the Quibbler side to side. Seeing the paper struck a chord in Harry and he realized he needed to speak to Luna about the paper. The Prophet was being acceptable...barely, but that was probably only because someone was holding something over them. There was no doubt to Harry that they would in time go back to useless drivel and when that happened, there would have to be some paper publishing the truth. The Quibbler would be it, and Harry would make sure that his beloved did not touch it. It was odd but he liked Luna; both sides of him liked Luna. She was refreshingly honest and he liked that... Hopefully the day would come when he could call her his Seeress.

       Ron and Hermione, of course, were sitting together and had been ecstatic to see him after the months of mere correspondence. Harry could see that Hermione was itching to ask about the training he'd done over the summer and how his results were, but Harry suppressed a smile. He could tell her some things about his training, but he could honestly tell her he didn't know what his O.W.L scores were. He knew he'd done well-beyond well into the realm of phenomenal- but he hadn't asked what the levels were. It would cost him an elbow or two in the ribs from her but it would be worth it to see her face and the amusement it would cause. Hermione hadn't said much either in greeting... well nothing beyond the normal, but just as Harry could see the questions, he could also see that she wanted to talk about other things and was holding off until they could be in a safe place. Sometimes, just sometimes, he appreciated her discretion and Harry smiled. Whatever questions she had would tell him a lot about if she was with him, or if she was still tied to the concepts and truths as given out by those in authority. He did so hope she had learnt to question things.

       Ron was similar to Hermione in that he hadn't said much beyond the usual greetings and some small talk about trivial issues. Discussing the Chudley Cannons last drubbing was hardly a touchy topic, but then Ron, when he thought about it, was strategic enough to outwit them all. He just didn't think about it often. He had some questions, but they too would wait. What had been interesting about Ron, though, was that he'd actually said on the station that if Harry needed him this year then all he had to do was say and he would understand. So perhaps Ron was willing to stand with him. That was a start but it would require more than that before Harry told him the truth. It was, however, the first step and Harry was relieved. He really didn't want a repeat of his fourth year.

       Harry woke up from his doze as the door to their compartment slid open to reveal, standing just on the threshold, one Draco Malfoy. Harry suppressed a smirk as he looked carefully at his handiwork, letting both Ron and Hermione run small interference before he was required to address the young man. His spell was holding, but it was being and had been strained. That was both pleasing and worrying. Pleasing because it was holding, but worrying because Malfoy should not be able to strain his castings at all, yet apparently he was. The charm also showed some minor evidence of removal being attempted. That had probably been Narcissa, Harry determined, looking at the cuts and how they had been delivered. For some reason most wizards over looked the skills of their female counterparts. Not Harry though. Narcissa's attempts showed a great deal of power, skill and control and that was something he filed away into memory. Perhaps the dangerous one in that marriage was not Lucius. That would be somewhat ironic but it would not alter the outcome of events. Silently Harry reinforced his charm. He wanted Draco to remember but if it came to it, Obliviate may just have to be used.

       "Well, well, well, what have we here?" the blond Slytherin drawled while his lackeys, the ever present Goyle and Crabbe, just looked on.

       "Looks to be a Mudblood and a heap of blood traitors," Crabbe replied and Harry let his jaw sag in a comical display of disbelief.

       "My god, it speaks!" Harry interrupted Malfoy's response. "Look everyone and remember this momentous occasion."

       There were chuckles from around him and Harry flashed the others in his compartment a grin as he stood up to face Malfoy and his goons.

       "Malfoy," Harry said and the joking tone in his voice vanished entirely. "I don't know why you bothered to come but I'm not interested. I'm willing to put galleons down on the fact that the others aren't interested either so I'll give you this chance to leave, otherwise... well what's the score so far? 5-nil, our favor... If you don't leave, you'll get the chance to change that score line, but it will be changing to 6-nil." Harry finished with a nasty smile. He fixed Malfoy's lackeys with a particularly strong glare, letting them see the barest hint of his power.

       As expected, the two strong-arms stepped back, but interestingly, Malfoy wasn't intimidated.

       "I see you are just as uncouth as always," the blond spat. "I'd thought to bring you some news, but I guess the know-it-all bunch already knows it all and thus, doesn't want it. A pity since this is most likely the last opportunity they would have. So be it," Draco continued as he stepped back from the door. "I'll give this slight warning instead. Change is coming and the children of the past are now grown."

       "Get out of here Malfoy," Ron snapped, Hermione's hand on his arm keeping him civil.

       "Oh, I'm going blood traitor. But when the time comes, don't say I didn't try to warn you." With those final words, the blond Slytherin swept out and the others turned to Harry as Ginny and Neville returned, their faces showing identical broad grins. They'd been waiting in the nearby compartments for the annual visit by the bouncing ferret, and had been ready to ambush them in the case that the visit followed its usual routine. It was almost a pity that it hadn't been as per normal but the fact that neither Ginny nor Neville needed to be called upon was just making the joke more amusing.

       Hermione giggled. "I thought he was going to swallow his tongue!" she said before frowning slightly. "I wonder though what news he thinks we'd be interested in?"

       "What? Beyond the fact his Father is a Death Eater, oh wait, a Rebel Death Eater who hasn't been spotted for months, his Mother has been busy keeping quiet about everything and the Malfoy name is worth nothing?" Ron drawled.

       "Or it could be something school related, like who the next DADA teacher is."

       "That's hardly important or newsworthy. Besides, I'm sure Harry would know."

       "Know what?"

       "Whom the DADA teacher is."

       Harry shook his head, ignoring the looks of disbelief from four sets of eyes and one bored look from Luna. "Nope, don't know," he said. "I never asked."

       "Oh Harry!" Ginny sounded exasperated.

       "It didn't concern me!" he protested. He really didn't know who would be the DADA teacher, mostly because he didn't want to know and it really didn't concern him. Dumbledore hadn't come right out and say it but it was fairly obvious that for Harry, class was about to become optional. Even if he got a choice in it, he would probably still want to remain at Hogwarts to keep an eye on the ancient wizard if nothing else but if he was pushed he'd say it was because he wanted to remain around people his own age and experience the wizarding world that way because he was still young. He almost chuckled. Soon the wizarding world would conform to his desires so any lack of knowledge would be academic.

       "It really didn't concern me," he repeated, "And without his father's influence, I doubt Draco would know that either." He added. "Whatever he wanted to brag about isn't worth it."

       "That's what I said," Ron said and the cabin laughed letting the subject drop.

       "How was your summer?" Harry asked pre-empting any specific questions about his summer.

       Harry smiled, occasionally inserting a question which kept the group talking as they travelled through the country side. It was a pleasant way to spend the time and he savored it as much as he could. Few other things this year would be as pleasant.

       They talked for hours, not noting the time until the train jolted suddenly and they were thrown into each other by the sudden stop.

       "What was that?" Ron asked as he looked around.

       "I don't know," Neville replied, looking out the window.

       "Whatever it was, we best get about and re-assure the First Years," Hermione said practically. The Hogwarts Express stopping wasn't that much of an issue. It had stopped in the past, just never so suddenly.

       "Wait," Harry said suddenly, feeling something on the edge of his sense. He concentrated and sent out some magical probes, testing the currents of magic.

       There was a lot of nervous energy on the train and uncertainty. They weren't the only ones surprised by the sudden stop but there was nothing yet wrong. Harry reached further, feathering his perception around the train.

       There.

       He could sense them; a lot of magical signatures that did not belong. A lot of magical signatures he recognized; Death Eaters loyal to his beloved. And there... close but not so close as to be easily sensed, was the Dark Lord Voldemort himself with someone Harry didn't recognize.

       Harry's internal self-suppressed glee. Oh, his beloved really did know how to make a statement.

       Outwardly, he schooled his face into an expression of surprised determination as he opened his eyes. "He's here," he said softly.

       The others faces ran through a gamut of emotion - surprise, shock, fear before they too took on the same determination he showed.

       "We need to help the other students to get out of the way," Neville said with conviction.

       "We also need to raise the alarm," Ginny added.

       Hermione looked at Harry with a particularly intense look, one that said she would have many questions later.

       "Harry, could you sense where they are coming from?" Ron asked, obviously thinking about what position they should take to be the most effective.

       "They're coming in from the front and sides," Harry said. "And just wait a second, I'll raise the alarm but we are going to have to move some of them."

       "Can you fight him?" Ron asked the question Hermione was obviously dying to know the answer to but was too polite to come out and ask.

       "Probably, but if I do it here there will be too much collateral damage," Harry said nonchalantly. "And Dumbledore doesn't really want me to do it alone. I will if there is no other choice but this time. Let's get everyone out." Harry closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of Fawkes within him. In the distance from the front of the train there came some cries of surprise and a few detonations that were probably spells and the attempts of some to fight. Internally, Harry rolled his eyes. It was honorable and all that, but for those who didn't know how to fight, running was not cowardice; it was sensible.

       Fawkes stirred and Harry relayed the message and the feeling of the Dark Lord being near. He felt the phoenix's surprise and worry but also his confirmation and the reassurance that the Order of the Phoenix would be there as soon as they could. Harry gave Fawkes an impression of roughly where they were, but unfortunately for him and the phoenix the country side all looked about the same. From his vantage point he could see no defining features, and he didn't know which co-ordinates he was at for apparition.

       "All right," Harry said, opening his eyes, "They'll be here soon. And yes, I am a member of the Order, but questions can wait. Ron, what's the best plan?"

       "Some of us need to go forward to tell everyone to move back and the rest of us need to go back and make the others keep moving back and to get off the train and to keep together as a group. Or if we can't get to the end of the train then to get off anywhere that provides some cover. Older students should accompany the younger years and where possible they should hide or run. Fighting is the last resort if they are cornered and have no other choice."

       The group nodded and Harry took command. "Luna and Ginny, please move back down the train and tell everyone what to do. Ron, Hermione and Neville, you'll come with me and we'll go forward. We aren't trying to fight; we are just trying to get everyone to safety." Outer Harry let his eyes meet Ginny's, silently pleading for her not to argue and to go on what was the safest course. In a world where he truly loved her, this is what he would have done and Fawkes who was stirring the Order, but was still active within him, chirped softly at his gesture.

       The group nodded and then split up as they left the compartment.

       As they moved forward, Harry watched how the others worked together. They followed his movements well and, though they also needed some work, generally things went smoothly. As they went past each compartment, one of them, usually Hermione stuck her head inside and gave instructions to the occupants. It was a strong voice in the midst of uncertainty, and coming from a Sixth Year, they didn't get much argument about their instructions. Internally, Harry shook his head slightly. It was beneficial to them in this instance, but sheep followed along blindly; witches and wizards should have more nouce. As much as they were able to, they grouped the First Years with older students so that they at least had some protection and then they moved on, trusting that Luna and Ginny would take over and issue further instructions when the groups of students got further down the train.

       They'd only gotten through a few carriages before they ran into problems.

       The Dark Lord's forces were attacking from the front and sides. Anyone with a wit of tactics would know that the Serpent Lord's forces weren't seriously trying to kill anyone with this attack, else the escape route down the back of the train would have been covered. But most of the students wouldn't realize that, nor would the parents, not for quite some time. This was merely an attack about presence, to show that The Dark Lord could and would attack what he wanted, when he wanted and there was naught that the Ministry could do about it. Oh, this would no doubt push parents into demanding that the Ministry better fight the Dark Lord, which would make their eventual defeat all the more resounding.

       They'd been about to jump between carriages when a barrage of curses had pinned them in place. Luckily, they had cover and Harry and his friends flanked the last door way heading out of the carriage. Ron and Hermione were on one side while Harry and Neville were on the other. Alternately, they leaned slightly to cast into the hills where the Death Eaters were.

       "We need to get a bit further on," Hermione said.

       "That won't do us any good if we don't secure this door," Ron replied, looking around.

       Neville nodded. At first, their year mate had looked rather distressed, but as they'd worked their way through the carriages, Neville had seemed to become more self-assured and now he had a slight grin on his face. He was still worried and still controlled, but he knew what he was doing. "Over there," Neville shouted, pointing with his wand and casting a quick curse towards the side. "That's some flitterbloom and we can use that to form a shield over the carriages."

       Harry nodded. The basic strategy was sound though he could already see many ways it could end in disaster, but he was fairly sure that none of the Death Eater's would take those options... Setting the wood of the plant on fire would be ridiculously easy and would trap the students who were trying to use it as a passage way. Either that or a strong enough Diffindo would cut through it and anyone inside. Let alone what any number of other curses would do, but for now he let that be. They needed something to cover over the walk way between the carriages so that they could get out some more students and it would suffice. This attack had to have survivors after all.

       "We'd better do it quick," Ron put in. "All of us should levitate it together to get the cover complete in one go."

       "On three," Hermione said. "Harry, you do the top, Neville you do the left side, I'll do the right side and Ron just general covering fire please," she added the instructions before counting. "One, two, _three_!"

       "Wingardium Leviosa!" They all cried in unison, focusing on the plant. Ron just laid about with random curses designed more to hinder and force others to cover. Their plan worked without a hitch which, all things considered, was a good thing and as soon as their cover was in place, Harry led the others through into the next carriage and they continued working their way down the train, sending the students to safety.

       He could still feel Fawkes within him which was making his true self itchy with frustration. It would be so much easier to work out what to do if he could just spare an instant to speak to his beloved, or even a mental brush up would tell Harry the plan and then he could adjust his plans. He did _not_ want to come into contact with the Dark Lord today. As they continued forward, the sounds of battle became louder and Harry was also curious about that. _who_ was fighting? Who was able to fight? Whomever it was, he would find out in due course he consoled himself.

       "Harry!" The exclamation brought him back to himself in time for him to duck under a barrage of curses. He sent his own back absently as he took cover with his friends. They were with a group of First Years who were cowering.

       "We can't get much further," Ron said. "The curses are coming too fast. I counted at least 20 and that's just too many for us to fight."

       Harry nodded unconcerned. "The Order should be here soon," he said softly, keeping his voice matter of fact to calm the First Years who were listening in, straining to hear anything of comfort. He supposed that for them, this was not the most ideal introduction to magic, but he would attempt to show them that magic was not something to be feared; rather it was something they could use. "I guess we will hold here and try to get the students from this carriage to us, so that we can cover them." Harry looked at one of the First Years who didn't appear quite as catatonic as the others. "This carriage was mostly First Years?" he asked.

       "Yes, but most were near the first compartment," the eleven year old said.

       "Bloody hell," Ron summarized the situation as he looked up the corridor and the odd curses that were still raining into it. The Death Eaters had apparently decided that quantity was a virtue even if they couldn't see a target and were still streaming curses into the train in an unfortunately successful attempt to keep the occupants pinned down under whatever cover they had. And still ahead of them came the unmistakable sound of fighting.

       Harry sighed. "You First Years, stay down. Right at the moment that's the best thing you can do, and _no_ peeking. This isn't a game, but I'm sure you realized that already. I'll go up ahead now and cover those others who have gotten stuck, before the bad guys close in."

       "Harry, you can't!" Hermione objected.

       "Someone has to," Harry countered. "And I'm the best qualified. So long as I don't run into Voldemort himself, it will be fine," he added the reassurance.

       There wasn't much they could say because they knew he was right, and with a last nod at them, Harry jumped and dashed through the corridor working his way up the carriage towards the trapped First Years.

       When he got to the compartment and wedged himself under cover with them, he could see the problem. There had been injuries. A couple of the students had been pinned by wood and there looked to be a lot of blood staining everything. Some of the First Years were trying to help the injured using Muggle means, others were just milling around under cover, unsure of what to do. Harry sighed. He was not a medic and while he knew some charms, it was not his strength. Still, he had to employ them now and with a practiced wave of his wand he stepped forward to see what he could do... right as the side of the compartment was ripped away.

       Harry had time to glimpse the black robes and white faces of the Death Eaters before he reacted, flinging up the strongest shields he could around himself and the First Years. There was a moment of startled silence that was tinged with shock as the Death Eater's recognized him before their spells started impacting on his shield.

       Harry had trained for a day such as this and he reinforced his shield, dodging as best as he could away from the all the curses that were streaking around. Thankfully, there was no brilliant green of Avada Kedavra.

       There was one good thing about the position, Harry reflected absently as he maintained the shield. He could see the battle field better, but what he could see was not that reassuring. The Death Eaters were doing okay and there were now little pockets of Order of Phoenix members and Xeoaph's Vampires, fighting back and seemingly doing okay, but up near the front of the train, he could see the Dark Lord.

 


	20. Diversion

Weapon   
Chapter 20 Diversion

===

       Voldemort was surrounded by a core of his most ardent followers who were performing defence while he was attacking. Harry could see that the Serpent Lord was relaxed and he resisted the urge to speak to his beloved. There was something else going on here obviously for the Dark Lord to be so relaxed and for this attack to be so tepid.

       It was as if the dark forces were showing off. As if they just wanted to be seen, but didn’t particularly care about any damage they may be causing or not causing as the case was. Harry could think of no other reason his beloved would be playing.

       That was the only way he could describe what he was seeing.

       Voldemort was trading blows with Draco Malfoy and while the blond appeared terrified he was also doing surprisingly well, pulling off charms that Harry didn’t think the young wizard was capable of. Obviously he’d put in some serious training over the summer, much like a certain Gryffindor.

       Harry was thankful the others couldn’t see or there would be some questions, maybe not about the dark forces but certainly about Draco and right at the moment he didn’t want anything interfering with the Slytherin. He would have his own questions for the Dark Lord as soon as he was able.

       With a lazy flick of his wand, Voldemort shrugged off the Slytherin, stunning the blond but not moving in for the kill. Red serpent eyes swept over the battle field and for an instant green and red gaze’s met but both were aware of the approaching members of the Order of the Phoenix, and the Vampires and Aurors.

       The Dark Lord apparated in a swirl of red robes without saying a word and the Death Eaters followed, leaving the battle field eerily silent.

       Harry let out an explosive breath, letting his shield fall as he turned his focus back towards healing charms. His friends quickly came into the carriage, but were discrete enough to stand back as they saw him working. Soon the medics called from St Mungos were Apparating in, but by that time Harry had healed the wounds of the First Year who was sitting, shaking his head a bit groggily but was otherwise fine. The rest of the First Years looked at him with something akin to awe and Harry just smiled slightly, wiping bloody hands on his robes as he stood.

       With a few quick steps, Harry moved over to the most senior member of the Order he could see.

       “Good work, Harry,” Kingsley said, looking around at the damage.

       It was rather impressive actually. There were several carriages almost completely disassembled and from the wreckage there were students climbing out from behind cover. Apparently those who had not been able to run had been able to do the sensible thing and hide. That would explain why so many Death Eaters had still been gathered at the front of the train. Obviously they were trying to get those who were under cover, though to Harry something with the attack wasn’t right. He didn’t say anything; the Order and the Ministry would just have to work it out themselves.

       The engine of the Hogwarts Express was unhitched from the rest of the carriages and was lying on its side, about 80 metres to the side of the tracks. They wouldn’t be travelling that way though to the school, not unless they were prepared to compromise the scene to clean up the wreckage and someone, probably Dumbledore, levitated the locomotive back to the tracks. Other arrangements would have to be made to get the students to Hogwarts this year.

       Harry shook his head. He was glad this wasn’t going to be his problem, nor would he have to talk to the media. They were going to have a field day with this and as Harry thought that, he understood his beloved’s purpose with this attack. It was not about anything except showing his presence, and what better way to do that than to show that no one was safe. That’s why no one had died. Voldemort didn’t want that, not this time. This time it was about presence.

===

       After being dismissed by the blood traitor, Draco had stalked to the front of the Hogwarts Express, suppressing his rage. He’d learnt spells and charms over the summer but the Gryffindork and his ilk could still control the situation and that infuriated him. He still had much to learn it would seem. But those things were quickly forgotten as he was thrown to the ground and from around him there came the unmistakeable sounds of many apparition points.

       He’d been momentarily stunned when he’d hit the ground and it took him a moment to realise that the train had been stopped and that he could hear the pops of apparition only because the noise of the Express was no longer present. Father never warned me there would be an attack, he thought dumbly, before the memory and realisation that his father was no more in a position of power re-established itself in his mind again and he shuddered with cold fear. He had to carve his own future and while being the son of the Dark Lord Lucius would have been enough for him there was a certain satisfaction from knowing that his eventual position would be because of his own work and talents. Never would the future be able to say that he had just inherited power, wealth and position. The future would know he had fought and had won it over the bodies of his enemies. They would know that he, Draco Malfoy, was a wizard of supreme ability and foresight, descended from a line that was known for those traits, true, but he would be known as the epitome of them.

       He was consumed by the fantasy for only an instant but was brought shockingly back to the present at the sound of tearing, and there came the flash of a cold breeze against his skin. He realised then that the carriage was being torn apart and the words of his mother came to the fore. “Be aware and be prepared for anything at any time. The Serpent Lord may no longer be the true heir of the dark but never doubt he is formidable and never doubt that he can plan. You will win in time, Draco, my son, but remember always he has the history and the planning that must be over come first.”

       This then was merely an example of the Serpent Lord’s ability. Most in the wizarding community didn’t doubt that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned, but the level of fear that had accompanied his last rise was not yet present. Why? Because everyone was relying on that darned Potter to defeat him again! Draco knew, he could feel that it was a false hope; one that the light would pay dearly for, but one his followers would be prepared to accept and would know in their hearts. They would not be caught by surprise. Screams from around him indicated that many had been caught unaware by the Serpent Lord’s attack and Draco rolled himself behind cover as he sent his astral self to assess the situation.

       This attack by the Serpent Lord would go a long way towards re-establishing the fear in the community. If the children were not safe, if Dumbledore could fail here, then nowhere was safe. The tactician in Draco admired the cunning, but while the Serpent Lord’s plan was even now complete, it provided him with an opportunity. He had followers yes, those already willing to follow the name Malfoy, but for him to be successful he needed more. He needed to recruit those who were still considering following the Serpent Lord or maintaining their neutrality. He had to show everyone that he was a viable force, not just a child’s voice. And the Serpent Lord’s attack was his best opportunity. If he could defeat a couple of Death Eaters, then the entire school would know his name, as would the rest of the wizarding community in time. His mother could use that. While he recruited the future, she would use the opportunity to recruit the seniors to his cause.

       Draco smiled, picking out his targets before drawing his astral body back to himself, simultaneously drawing his secondary wand. It was time to show Hogwarts what he’d learnt this summer.

===

       Voldemort sat in his throne room both pleased and irritated by the results of the midday battle. “Tell me again why I didn’t kill the junior Malfoy?” he snarled at the shadows after checking that Kisha was well away. By mutual agreement the elder vampire had not and would not participate in any battle until the impact would be the best. The element of surprise and the complete stripping of the allegiance between the Vampires and the Order made it worth Voldemort’s time to agree to the lack of assistance from Xeoaph’s sire.

       The shadows chuckled at his vehemence. :Because, you agreed to give him to our Master,: they replied almost happily.

       “And now he grows arrogant,” the Dark Lord replied, “thinking he can match me.”

       :Let him think what he wants,: the shadows advised. :In the end, those who follow him will be brought low.:

       “Yet those who follow him, should be following me.”

       :You want the intelligent ones, those who can see where true power lies, not those who follow the flash and promise of illusion.:

       “I do,” Voldemort conceded, “But I still need the children. I do not need them blinded by their fellows’ supposed ability. I do not need them following Malfoy and thinking of all the things that might please that young upstart, where such things bring risk to my mate.”

       The shadows seemed to nod, granting the Dark Lord a point in that line of reasoning. :Even should the younglings follow Draco, we will see to it that our Master is unharmed. Those who raise their hand against our Master will suffer. We need our Master happy with us, even more than you do, Serpent Lord,: they added, their choral voice dark with inflection before they lightened. :Leave Draco with his illusions, it makes his fall sweeter and gives the Vampires hope that their price may yet be paid.:

       Voldemort chuckled. “They don’t honestly expect a Malfoy to honour whatever pact they had?”

       :Not yet, but in due course, they are hoping to extract at least partial payment. Xeoaph invested heavily in Lucius, he has to try to recoup something,: the shadows said playfully.

       The Serpent Lord was silent for a long moment, considering what he knew, what he thought the shadows were planning, and what he was planning. In the end, if a few followed Draco it would make no difference, so long as no harm came to his beloved, and in that he knew that the shadows would be fierce guardians. The younger Malfoy was of no consequence in the larger scheme and the only regret in his destruction would be the mourning of another pure line vanishing. With a hiss, he let the argument go, turning his attention to the battle tonight.

       As anyone with an ounce of sense would have worked out the attack on the Express was diversionary and illustrative, but he hadn’t intended to inflict real harm in that strike. His goals with that attack had been met, and already his Ministry spies were reporting that most of the Ministry were now set the task of reassuring distraught parents and of attempting to work with the Order to come up with better security plans. Once they realised he could do what he wanted, when he wanted, and started actually planning on fighting then they would have more success, Voldemort thought to himself, but that was hardly advice he would be providing them. If they were too dense to realise that on their own, they needed his leadership more than he thought, and much more than they realised.

       Tonight though, that would be the real test for him. The actual logistics of the strike were easy, but the reactions of his followers and their ability to believe and to adapt, that would be what was truly tested. If they failed, if they did not meet his expectations, then his plans would be put back. The Hogwarts Express had been a taste of fear for the Wizarding Community. Tonight would be the main course.

       “How many will I lose?” he speculated a loud.

       :Some, but not many,: the shadows replied. :Most of those you see tonight follow you without question and on the few times they’ve been forced to think, they have followed your logic. There is after all, a reason some of them are of your upper echelons.:

       Voldemort smiled, almost ironically. “That is true, they will follow my lead for these are my forces that may have failed me, but have not betrayed me and while I prefer neither failure nor betrayal, those who fail can succeed in other ways; those who betray me, are dead to me forever.”

       :And that is how it should be,: the shadows whispered.

===

       Harry blew out his breath, losing patience. He and most of the other students were still just milling around while the Order, the Ministry, and any other interested party tried to decide what to do. You would have thought that their key priority would be to move the students to Hogwarts; then they could have examined the wreckage at their leisure and held as many interviews as they wanted. But no... Apparently everyone was too in shock to take the logical path and he was fast losing his patience. Only the causalities had been apparated out, some to St Mungos but most to Madame Promfrey. None of the injuries were really that bad, but it had been deemed best to ease the strain on the Hogwarts Infirmary as much as possible. The students would be apparated to Hogwarts in another day or so, after they were cleared by the Medi-wizards.

       As yet another Ministry official eyed him off in that way that said they were working up their courage to talk to him, he finally lost his patience. “Gather your things,” he said to his friends, looking around at each of them. “We at least are going to make it to Hogwarts.”

       Harry strode purposefully over to Mad Eye. To be fair, the elder Auror looked as disgusted as he did at the situation and had been trying to make arrangements to clear out the non-combatants, but each time he seemed to have the situation under control, another ministry official would do or say something and the situation would deteriorate again. “I’m leaving,” Harry said firmly. “There is nothing more I can do here and it would be better to clear out as many as possible.”

       “Tell that to them,” Mad Eye growled, flicking his hand through an encompassing gesture.

       “Just override them,” Harry suggested. “What are they going to do? Complain?” he added in an impish tone.

       Mad Eye froze before he laughed, a short bark of noise that seemed to attract attention. “I’ll see you later,” he said, giving his approval for Harry to leave before he turned back to the Ministry Officials and began shouting, exerting authority as an Auror he technically didn’t have but that his reputation and presence would grant him for the moment.

       Harry grinned and then walked back to his friends, seeing that they had gathered everything they needed together, including his bags. “Okay, link hands,” he instructed, “I’m going to apparate us.”

       Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Harry, are you sure?” she asked, a touch of doubt shading her tone. At least she hadn’t given the rout “You can’t apparate into Hogwarts” speech.

       “Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied firmly. “I’ll need a good sleep tonight,” he added for her benefit. Side along apparition was one thing and was something well known, but no one really ever took more than two people. He was planning on taking five others, with baggage; it was fair that she was worried. “I’ve had enough of them worrying over a battle that was nothing more than diversion,” he added, before with a slight flash and a large pop they vanished, reappearing at the Hogwarts boundary wards.

       Hermione looked around as the disorientation faded and Harry caught the slight look of disappointment. He grinned at her, winking “Can’t apparate into Hogwarts, now can you, Hermione?”

       She smiled back at him, recognising his jest. “No, you can’t,” she replied, pulling out her wand to cast feather light charms on their trunks as they prepared to walk up to the castle.

       About half way there Ron frowned and looked at Harry. “Harry,” he said, his voice sort of doubtful. “What did you mean, diversion?”

       “Hmm?”

       “At the Express, you said you’d had enough of people who thought the battle was a diversion. What did you mean?”

       “I meant what I said Ron. I want you to think about it for a while, it will come to you. But think about this, why was the only major damage to the Express? Why were none of the students killed?”

       “Velma was pretty heavily injured,” Ginny said.

       “But not by spells. She was injured by debris, not by any spell work,” Neville said almost immediately. “Why didn’t they kill anyone?” he asked with a frown.

       “Why indeed?”

       “So you think the battle was a diversion?” Ron asked again. “But a diversion for what?”

       “It could be anything,” Hermione broke in. “It could even be nothing more than a publicity stunt. Ginny, you told me over the summer, the last time he was on the rise, sometimes, just sometimes, he did things that seemed to make no sense, that were really only there just to show that he was there.”

       “Yes.” The red-haired girl replied reluctantly.

       “Then could this have been that? How better to show that you are back that by disrupting the Express, something most wizards thought was safe? In one stroke he shows he’s back, and that not even the children are safe _and_ he gets to strike at the blind belief that Dumbledore can save everything. I think a lot of wizards are counting on Dumbledore to save them again. By striking in Dumbledore’s domain, V... v... voldemort,” she said the name with a grimace, “shows that he can and will strike at anything and that as far as he is concerned, his victory is only a matter of time.”

       Harry nodded, letting the others take the explanation from Hermione before they began walking again to the castle.

       Luna sidled up next to him though, and the look she gave him was open and frank. “Not all Phoenix are red,” she said.

       Harry decided to be direct. “Really, I hadn’t seen any that weren’t red.”

       “Fawkes is black,” Luna added cryptically. “You are black, but the darkness is not the same.”

       “Luna. I’m not a Phoenix.”

       “I know. You aren’t even one in your other form. But Fawkes is black and you are black, but not all darkness is evil. And sometimes evil hides in the light.”

       “Luna...” Harry said uncertainly.

       “It’s just something you need to know,” she said with a soft smile before turning away hurrying a little to catch up with Ginny, leaving Harry rather perplexed.

       He shook his head briefly before looking up as they rounded the corner.

       The majestic castle of Hogwarts reared up ahead of them and Harry smiled. This was his home. The castle merely grew more beautiful in his eyes as the years went on. It was the first place he felt safe and while he received a similar feeling of comfort and safety in the Dark Lord’s arms, the castle was the first place and was perhaps his first love. He wanted to protect it.

       It might have been a trick of the light but in the setting sun, Hogwarts seemed to shimmer and Harry nodded towards the ancient building, sending his heart out to it receiving back an almost startled feeling of recognition that smoothed out to confirmation and an odd sort of love. In his mind Harry snickered but not unkindly. In a peculiar way the castle was alive, and it did love him and the other students, most of them anyway, but the love of a building was different to the love of another human. Harry did not discount it though. Fighting in an environment that loved you and wanted to protect you would give at least some advantage, and he sighed imperceptibly and relaxed into the feeling of rightness he got from Hogwarts. For now, that feeling was the closest he could get to what he felt when he was in his beloved’s arms and after the activity today, he needed the calming embrace.

===

       Molly Weasley nursed a cup of tea as she sat in the almost unnatural silence at the Burrow. Arthur had gone to the office for a bit, leaving her alone after they had dropped off the children for their school year. She listened to the clock tick as she stared into the fire. It was always difficult adjusting to the silence and that’s why Arthur always gave her a few hours and usually she would putter around making sure the children’s rooms were left orderly and begin dinner, but today she just sat and considered.

       Her children were growing up. She knew that intellectually, but today she had felt it in her heart. Just watching them at the station had shown her that. Ron was confident with Hermione, and Fred and George were as lackadaisical as ever, but they would be okay. She could feel it. Her worry was focused on Ginny. There was just something wrong there. It was odd. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about today had been off. Molly took a sip of tea before closing her eyes, remembering.

       Harry had been the perfect gentlemen with her daughter and perhaps that was the problem, Molly realised rather belatedly. There didn’t seem to be any excitement there. She frowned at her own thoughts. She would have thought the word would be love but Mrs. Weasley was sure enough of her subconscious observations.

       Ginny and Harry liked each other well enough, she conceded that, but it went no further. Even between Ron and Hermione there was a spark, something exciting that was between loving couples. It was not between Harry and Ginny. It was hard to define what was missing but there was something not quite right. They might work as a couple, but it would not be true love and that made her rather sad. She felt she should warn Ginny or Harry or somehow show them; just that at the moment, she couldn’t think how.

       Between them, it was undoubtedly first love, but first love was not true love and it didn’t last though most remembered their first loves with fondness.

       Molly sighed as she got up to stir the fire. She might want to help, but there was nothing she could do at the moment. Hopefully they would see what was missing in time. If not... if not... was it really her place to be dictating? She hoped they saw it before it was too late. They could still be friends, even if they weren’t destined to be mates.

===

       “ _What the hell were you thinking?_ ”

       There were times when Draco wished that his hearing wasn’t quite so good and having Millicent scream at him in a display that was very unSlytherin-like, was definitely one of those times.

       Blaise reached out making placating gestures towards the female, but no less angry. The rest of their house just looked upon the tableau, interested but not interfering. “What makes you think you could take on the Dark Lord, Draco? Your father? Your money? Your blood? You saw what happened last year, yet you still want to try.”

       Draco raised one eye brow. He had to win this argument or no one would follow him. He could see their point. In the past he would have just ignored them as blustering, trusting that they would see things his way soon enough. But to have his house follow him he would have to win this argument.

       “Yet here I am,” Draco said with a small smile, his grey eyes shining. “I understand your concerns, but he is not the Dark Lord we sacrificed so much for. Once he was perhaps, but he is no longer. That is what my father was adamant to show and that is what I have shown. I walked away. What Dark Lord would have let me walk away?” He didn’t like calling the Serpent Lord the Dark Lord, but the others expected it and he didn’t like downplaying his abilities, but he had no choice. He had to show that the former Dark Lord was weak. He had to show that they needed to find a new lord.

       “And here we are,” Blaise countered. “Waiting for the axe to fall because we followed you already. Our parents are dead, Draco. You better hope your father is also dead or else he is suffering. There are not enough of us to make a difference in any action you wish to take. He won. And all we can do at the moment, Draco, is hope that the Light can win. Not our usual course of action, I admit, but the only one that offers survival for us.

       “As you said, you walked away, Draco. But then so did everyone else. The Dark Lord wasn’t interested in killing this time; he was interested in showing his presence. He can kill whenever he wants; you know that, I know that. Millicent and I know that more than most.” Blaise finished sadly.

       “So you will just sit and wait for death?” Draco challenged.

       “If I had of had my way, I wouldn’t be here, Draco,” Millicent said softly. “I would be in America or Australia or even Asia, anywhere but here because I know what I have done and I know that I won’t just be allowed to walk away. I’m now put in a position where I can’t support either side, Draco, but that does not mean I will support you. You do not have the strength to win.

       “Let’s imagine for a minute, Draco, you walked away this time because for whatever reason you had the power to walk away. So what? You fought him in one battle, but you do not have the followers. They followed your father, Draco, and they died for their efforts, our parents included.”

       The rest of Slytherin house watched. They were aware of the divide in their house; it was something that would only be shown here, in the privacy of their common room. To the rest of the school they would present a united front, but that would happen tomorrow. Mostly. There would be subtle sniping at each other and depending on how the war went then perhaps there would be a public split in the house, but for the moment they watched, separated along the lines of their loyalties.

       There were four groups of differing size. The first years weren’t here. With the disaster on the train the sorting would be tomorrow and the first years were currently sleeping in the Great Hall. It wasn’t quite the start of the year that people had hoped, but at least they were alive.

       Most of the Slytherins were gathered to one side. They were those that were still loyal to the Dark Lord and to his ideals. Many of them had been present at his little talk to the children and while the idea of accepting mudbloods and half-bloods as equals based on their power was a bit grating they could reluctantly see the logic. They saw the Dark Lord’s power and they desired to live even if they didn’t see the logic fully.

       There was another group of about a quarter of the students gathered with a slight divide between them and the others. They were those who would hold neutral. It was a position that was becoming more precarious, but at least if they did decide to support a side, they had not already insulted anyone. They just watched; faces very carefully blank.

       The two last groups were about the same size and represented those few who were loyal to Draco and the others were loyal to Dumbledore and the light side. If Draco was distressed by the numbers he didn’t show it. Instead he stood tall and subtly exuded power. Most were too experienced to be phased by that, but it was affecting a few.

       “You cannot run, Millicent, you cannot hide. You have two choices at the moment,” Draco said smoothly, not letting the fact that there were so few supporting him affect his argument. He acted as if the entire house was behind him. “You can either sit around and wait for death, or you can fight. And since neither side will accept you Millicent, that doesn’t leave many sides for you to pick, now does it?”

       “And because I supposedly have no other choice, I should follow you?” Millicent hissed scornfully. “Not likely Draco, I already saw where that goes. You-Know-Who made it very clear to us what happens if we go against him. You are the only one who seems not to have learnt the lesson.”

       “You have? You have learnt so well that you will now sit and wait for death.”

       “That hasn’t been determined,” Blaise interrupted. “But if we raise our hands again, then I think it’s a rather foregone conclusion. Perhaps the Dark Lord won’t accept us back, but it is entirely possible with his victory that we will be living if we do not raise our hands against him.”

       Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “A faint hope if ever I heard one,” He couldn’t stop himself from murmuring.

       “Better than no hope at all,” Zabini countered. “Which is all you are offering. Even if you had the power to match the Dark Lord, something I doubt, you lack the experience and you don’t have enough followers to seize power. Your mother has been trying all summer to garner support, but it’s a lost cause Draco. You father already gathered the support, and tried and failed. There are no others who will follow now. You have different choices than we do Draco, but they amount to the same. I suggest you make them, rather than try to keep on the path your father made. If you follow that path then you will suffer the same fate.” Blaise shook his head slightly as he turned away. He could see many of the rest of his house nodding almost imperceptibly. He was known for his logic and while many of them felt sorry for him, none would try to protect him. If he thought he could run, he would have, but the few members of the Zabini clan that were left had decided that it was best to try just to be neutral, possibly slightly leaning towards the Dark Lord to show where they wanted to be. They didn’t want to sacrifice him, but he was prepared if it came to that. He would accept that to save the rest of his family, but he was hopeful that he might be able to slink by on this one. After all, he hadn’t actually done anything. This time it was Millicent who had done things. He had absolutely no intention of getting involved in any further plans of the Malfoy clan.

       Draco knew when it was time to cut his losses. Millicent and Blaise were lost to him. The rest of his House may not yet be lost to him, but he had to end the argument here while it was focused on those two. Most people didn’t know exactly what they had done, but they knew they had helped him in some way and now they were against him... Well maybe not against him, but at least not with him. That was okay, so long as the others would still consider following him.

===

       Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE, glanced at her muggle clock as she leaned back in her chair after pouring herself a very large glass of fire whiskey. 01:30 am was not a time she liked to be in her office, but today was just one of those days. One when she wondered why she just didn’t pack up and take Susan and herself to Australia.

       It had started off all fairly routinely. A few extra patrols assigned to Kings Cross for the start of the Hogwarts year then of course a few more patrols through Diagon and Knockturn Alleys so that all those parents who usually took the day off and went shopping weren’t interrupted by problems, or weren’t causing problems themselves. Yet it had all been surprisingly quiet. It had been how it was meant to be, no disruptions, a few rowdy citizens, but nothing that wasn’t handled quickly and efficiently. There were no attacks. Even the Aurors who were discretely trailing Narcissa Malfoy reported that the woman merely stopped off at the Apothecary to buy a few standard supplies and then apparated back to Malfoy Manor which was still in the hands of the Malfoys because without Lucius’ person no charges could be laid, no matter how much evidence they had.

       All in all, the morning was perfectly normal and quiet.

       Then, as the muggles would say, the shit hit the fan.

       They got multiple reports of an attack on the Hogwarts Express. Reports came from The Order, the Conductor, some of the seventh year students apparently kept their heads well enough to send out a distress call, and then of course there was the Death Eater who, calm as you please, apparated into the Atrium of the Ministry in full regalia, complete with blood red mask, who announced that they were attacking the Express now and wished the Aurors the best of luck, before they vanished.

       It was one thing to be told that there was an attack happening on the Express; it was quite another thing to be able to deal with it. Amelia was proud of how fast her Auror teams assembled, robed and ready for battle, but then a problem arose that no one had anticipated.

       They simply did not know _where_ the Express was. Oh, they knew it was on the way to Hogwarts but there was 800 to 900 kilometres of train track that it could be on. Even accounting for the fact that it wasn’t in London and wasn’t close to Hogsmeade, that still left a daunting amount of track to search. And every second wasted was another that the Dark Forces were attacking unopposed. She’d been able to feel the panic in the Ministry rising with every moment that passed as they considered the problem. Eventually they’d narrowed down where the Express was and while all Aurors could apparate to co-ordinates, in battle situations that was not considered safe. Regulation permitted co-ordinate apparition only when a base of operations was secured. That definitely did not apply to this situation. And that meant that they wasted more time in creating port keys for the strike teams.

       They’d arrived in time to see the last of the robed Death Eaters apparate out, leaving them to deal with the utter devastation and screaming children that was the Express. It was at that point that Amelia simply knew that the Dark Lord had already known that they would have troubles finding the Express and sheer arrogance of sending a messenger became all too painfully clear. The Prophet would have a field day. They’d been out manoeuvred again.

       The scene that greeted them was grim. There was debris everywhere and the first four carriages were lying on their sides, all of them bearing some damage, but the first two looked like they had been opened like sardine cans. She’d snapped a few orders, calling for anti-muggle wards to be erected immediately before she had directed each team to a carriage to assess the situation. The locomotive itself was also derailed, and was an impossible distance from the tracks. Amelia deliberately turned her thoughts away from the power that had been applied to seemingly hurl the 100 tonne engine 80-odd metres.

       It had taken them _hours_ to determine that with the exception of one unfortunate student, who had been apparated directly to St Mungos, that all the students were present and accounted for and that no one was suffering from injuries that were too bad. There were cuts and abrasions from falls when the Express had stopped and there was shock and fear from the attack itself, but physically all the students were fine. None were dead, none had been held under the cruciatus, none had been bitten by a werewolf and none had had any other nasty hex applied. Even the student who was injured had not been directly hurt, rather they had been hit by debris when the carriage they were trapped in had been ‘opened’.

       It had then taken them a while to sort out alternate transport arrangements, arrangements that were hindered by practically _everyone_ in the Ministry having to come to look at the damage. Eventually she’d just set up a cordon and proclaimed that anyone not authorised by an Auror who was within the cordon would be held for questioning. That had gotten her a lot of grumbles and she had already put a redirect charm up for the owls that would no doubt already be bearing down upon her from both disgruntled Ministry employees who frankly had no business being present and from parents who had wanted to be sure that their babies were safe. The cordon had at least allowed the Aurors to do their job to sort out the situation. Those students who were licensed to apparate were checked off and given permission to apparate to Hogsmeade directly, taking with them anyone or any luggage they could. Other students were gathered up into groups, and the Hogwarts House Elves were called upon to provide transportation. The first years were evacuated first and they went in year groups until all the students were safely in Hogwarts.

       By the time the last student left, it was dark and they’d positioned guards on the Express along with some wards and hexes to repel any curious wizard before most of the Aurors had apparated back to the Ministry to write up initial reports. They would be back the next day to properly look over the wreckage as their first priority had been to ensure that all the children were accounted for. The initial picture though was pretty obvious and the reports from the students confirmed the chain of events. The Dark Lord was playing.

       That was the conclusion she drew from the evidence. Despite the property damage the lack of deaths supported no other conclusion.

       You-Know-Who had stood on the tracks and had simply banished the locomotive, uncoupling it from the rest of the Express with the charm. Then Death Eaters and a few non-human supporters had assaulted from the front, converging on the first carriage and _very_ slowly working their way down towards the second, third and fourth carriages before they had either apparated or portkeyed out. They had encountered no major resistance though some of the students had banded together to fight and it appeared that Mr. Potter and his friends had tried to help evacuate as many students as they could towards the rear of the train and had stabilised the one significant injury. Mr. Malfoy though had tried a more glamorous path and had, according to reports, fought the Dark Lord.

       The fact he was still alive supported her conclusions that the Dark Lord was merely playing. There was no way he would have kept the son of a traitor alive if he was not trying to make another statement. The papers and the rest of the Ministry would miss that statement though. Amelia had no doubt of that. Or rather they would see it, but instead would focus on other trivial issues, proclaiming the Death Eaters weak because they had not killed, proclaiming that Mr. Malfoy could fight You-Know-Who or something like that. She didn’t really want to know because it was now her job to deal with the true message.

       The Dark Forces could strike when they wanted, where they wanted and do whatever damage they wanted. They had not killed, _this time_ , because they had not wanted to. This attack was not about fear, was not about anything except showing that the Ministry was still woefully inadequate. The strike itself was set up merely to show that. Why else would the Death Eaters only attack from the front when it made much more sense to have the strike the entire length of the train? In the amount of time it had taken the Aurors to respond, they could have either killed or kidnapped most of the students if that’s what they wanted to do.

       Oh there would have been some still fighting. Dumbledore had been giving hints about Mr. Potter’s abilities all summer, but most of the students would have been dead if that’s what You-Know-Who wanted. And that message would be lost to most. One of the few good things she could see from this battle was that apparently the Dementors were still loyal to the Ministry. She’d been trying to sure them up this summer since they were an obvious recruit for the Dark Lord and while Amelia was positive there were at least _some_ Dementors in his forces, they had apparently been absent today, the same with werewolves, though it had not been a full moon, so it was possible some were present but in human form. At least that would lend some weight to the calls for equality for the werewolves. What vampires had been present were there with the Order and had discretely removed themselves as soon as they could. They had been protected from the sun, but obviously had been ill at ease.

       The Ministry was coming together, slowly. The death of Fudge had helped them, much as You-Know-Who had wished, but they needed more time. They just didn’t yet have the numbers or the means to communicate fast enough. They should have known where the Express was. They should have been able to move faster. Yet they hadn’t and they couldn’t. They were getting better. They just weren’t getting better fast enough.

       Amelia was loath to admit it but they would need any and all help they could, even from the Order, an organisation she was not meant to admit existed. From the Vampires, a group of beings they usually hunted, from werewolves, if they could be persuaded to come to the Ministry after that fiasco with that Death Eater, from the Veela, from the goblins, from anyone. They were offering treaties and the impact from those treaties would be long term but they weren’t fast enough. They needed an ace, someone to rally the troops, someone who could be used to rally the general populace, to show them that this war was not something they could stand back from. She knew who that had to be, but she did not want to go that path. It was not fair.

       “Sturges!” Amelia called, knowing that the Auror Captain would still be present. “Ma’am!” The man appeared shortly. He was weary but still snapped to attention and had answered her call promptly. He was one of her better Captains for a reason.

       “How are we going on the Potter situation?”

       Sturges seemed surprised for a moment before he covered himself. “According to Dumbledore, he’s ready to fight. The problem is trying to fit him into the existing structures. We can’t have a lone fighter and we can’t give the ‘Order’ that much official autonomy.”

       Amelia nodded. That agreed with what she was thinking even if Sturges reasoning was not quite as personal as hers. She didn’t want to give Dumbledore that much power. He had enough already. “Do you have any solutions?”

       The Auror Captain looked a bit uncomfortable. “I have one but I’m not entirely happy with it.”

       She gestured for him to continue.

       “We can offer Mr. Potter an Auror Apprenticeship with Mr. Black re-instated as one of his mentors. That would give us the authority over him in battle but also allow some more freedom in how, where and when he can be deployed.”

       Amelia nodded again. It was a viable option. “Can we combine it with someone to have him earn a Mastery?”

       “Probably,” Sturges replied, feeling somewhat grateful that his boss hadn’t completely shot down the idea. It really was the only one that was viable. They would have spoken further but for the alarm that began blaring.

       “ _Azkaban_!” Amelia shrieked in an uncharacteristic display of temper.

       Sturges didn’t blame her. 02:00 am was not a good time for an alert to come through. Not today. Not from Azkaban.

       “Get everything together!” Amelia ordered, rising, her anxiety burning off the effects of the fire whiskey. She brandished her wand in one hand, sending her patronus off with messages as she pulled her battle robes on, striding from the office as other Aurors gathered themselves.

       She hoped this would be a false alarm but she knew it wasn’t.

       Azkaban.

       It really was one of those days.


	21. Azkaban

Weapon  
Chapter 21 Azkaban

===

       It was not a desirable job. It was not a glamorous job. It was not even a particularly respected job, despite the inherent dangers and the list of above average skills required to do the job. Prison guard of Azkaban was however, one of the best paid jobs in the Ministry. Full Auror Captain wages, plus hazard pay and no discrimination against Muggleborn or mudblood candidates.

       That's why Everett had signed up for it. He'd graduated Hogwarts three years back, with decent N.E.W.T.s, full of dreams and plans and schemes only to find that as a Muggleborn wizard his job prospects were rather low. Time and time again he'd seen fullbloods, he refused to call them purebloods, get positions ahead of him even when their results were abysmal, even when their results didn't met the requirements for the job, just because they had connections, just because their family was related, usually to a shockingly close degree, to someone who was the Head of this or that Department. Despite that, he'd persisted, getting piecemeal jobs to survive on before this one had come up and it seemed like the answer to his prayers.

       Sure the job was unpleasant, cold, and had long hours but he figured it was like some Muggle jobs, mining for example. You did them for a few years then, once you'd earned enough money, you were set up for life and could go back to a more usual job. And that was his plan. He'd already been on the job for almost two years and Everett figured he'd do this for another six to seven years. That would give him a very respectable amount of capital to invest both in the Muggle and wizarding worlds. Every night he checked both sets of papers, looking at stock prices and he had already picked out a few up and coming companies and was investing in them. The returns were slow but they were coming, even with the prospect of war for the wizards and with another six years he would be set up far beyond other Muggleborns of his year group. In another 20 to 30 years' time he'd be set up in the wizarding world and his name would be respected, maybe respected enough to marry into one of those fullblood houses. After all, they needed fresh blood and some of them were slowly coming to realise this.

       There were a few conditions that granted you respect if you were a Muggleborn, enough that the fullbloods could deceive themselves into thinking that things were equal even when the situation was far from it. If you had money, you got respect. If you had some sort of ability, like the ability to play Quidditch at a professional level, then you got respect. Raw power didn't matter, unless you were prepared to use it to carve out respect, but that was a path few were prepared to take. Blood purity mattered on a selective basis, it seemed, but it mattered enough that most of his year group, those who were Muggleborn anyway, had all considered going back to the Muggle world since the prejudices were less there. Everett hadn't though. He'd figured out how he could succeed. He'd figured out how he could gain that respect and a place in the wizarding world. And he would succeed and he would gain respect and position and that would set up his children to have it much easier than he had.

       Everett was debating to himself the merits of investing in Firebolt's or going with a more stable blue chip Muggle stock when he began his rounds. His mind continued to examine the possibilities, spending his future pay cheques as he walked down the corridors of the prison. The Dementors had been good lately and the older wardens said that was normal for summer. The extra light and the extra heat of the season made them sluggish and they had been doing their duties without complaint for the last few months. Even with the excitement of the Dark Lord's attack on the Ministry, the Dementors hadn't even become restive. Everett had seen the dispatches from the D.M.L.E. about that, wanting to know anything that may be unusual with the Dementors, but there was simply nothing to report. They still made the prison freezing, but they'd been obeying the Ministry mandates to the letter. Maybe in winter they would have more issues. At least that's what the head warden had muttered one night while he had replied to the D.M.L.E.'s boss repeating his previous reports that nothing was wrong.

       And so it was, when there was an icy breeze that blew across his neck, Everett merely hitched his robes higher, settling them around him more securely, reinforced his occulumency shields and continued to patrol, oblivious to the Dementor that was following him, and oblivious to the fact that with each new corridor he patrolled, another Dementor joined the pack that was trailing him. The only warning Everett had that something was very wrong, was the twinge on his occulumency shields, and a glimpse of ice racing along the walls ahead of him towards the wardens' control room as the Dementors streamed around him pouring into the one area they were not allowed. He couldn't shout and it was only a moment before he was lifted up and spun around and brought face to face with the underside of a Dementor's tattered hood. The last thing he saw was the face of a Dementor, its proboscis-like tongue extended and Everett's last thought was yes, it was completely true; you really did not want to look upon them.

       Then everything went black.

===

       Azkaban Island was a rocky outcrop that reared out of the North Sea. As the most feared wizarding prison in the world, it was naturally unplottable and untraceable. It had Muggle repelling charms anchored to buoys in a one kilometre radius around it ensuring that it was never spotted, even vaguely, by Muggle shipping. More repelling charms were located on the island itself, though recently some bribes, and confundus charms had been required to keep its position hidden from Muggle gas and oil prospectors, but that was all in a day's work for the Ministry. Its ward stones were sunk into the ocean floor around the island and the secondary ward stones were on the island itself. If on a scale of one to ten, the Ministry offices were graded as a two, the Unspeakable Offices were graded as a four and Hogwarts as a five on the protection scale then Azkaban Island rated a ten. It was the most well protected place in wizarding Briton. As well is should be, given that it was designed to contain only the most vicious, the most clever and cunning criminals. Those who wanted nothing more than to escape and wreak havoc on the innocent witches and wizards of Briton.

       In the centuries it had operated, only one person had ever successfully escaped. Centuries ago, three others had made it to the water, but their bodies had washed ashore a few days later, the corpse's faces' frozen as it was the elements which had claimed them. Others occasionally slipped out of their cells but the Dementors were not known for their lenience.

       When the island itself had formed it was almost solid rock but as time progressed, it had been painstakingly hollowed out to the point where it was now almost completely hollow. The work had been done by hand so there was no magic residue that could be utilised by anyone. The outer shell had been kept at a minimum of ten metres thick, though near the very peak of the island this had been reduced for the comfort of the Wardens' Quarters. The waves never stopped pounding the rock and the wind never stopped howling.

       The island prison was surmounted by the watch tower and the control room. That was the place where the wardens monitored the prison and was on the highest point of the island. Below it were the Wardens' Quarters. They spent fourteen days on the island, then seven days off, on a rotation. They had a small open courtyard on that level. It was really nothing more than a flattened area where they could grow a few meagre plants and enjoy the wan sun when it was available. The floor of the Wardens' level had a few special wards that suppressed the chill of Dementors so their level was surprisingly warm. Occulmency wards were also embedded into the floor, though these were limited to the sleeping areas. Under no circumstances were Dementors allowed on this level and there were failsafe proximity alarms that linked back to the Ministry to ensure that the Dementors did not wander. On the level below the Wardens' Quarters were holding cells as well as the area for short term prisoners. While these cells were as far away from the Dementors as possible, the pervasive chill made any stay unpleasant. You could sense the Dementors on this level, but you could not truly feel their effects. Technically the Dementors weren't allowed on this level. but there was nothing to stop them and they occasionally were known to glide through the hallways here. Beneath this level was the area for the medium term prisoners and the processing facility for all prisoners. The only entrance to the prison was on this level, but it was blocked by a large iron gate that was sealed from the inside. Everyone passed through this area and Dementors were only allowed in this area to greet and escort prisoners into the long term facility. There were two more floors below this area. The level below belonged to the Dementors. It was on this level there was a plain stone slab which those wizarding criminals who were sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss were shackled and left and there was a largish room cloaked in darkness where the Dementors usually hovered. Below the Dementors' floor was the final level. It was partially submerged below sea level and it was here that the long term and life sentence prisoners were housed. The Dementors had free range here, though they may not enter any cell. It was here that those convicted of bearing the Dark Mark, those who were convicted of willingly supporting the Dark Lord were imprisoned. This level was perpetually cold and damp and most of the prisoners were insane.

       There was a small, slightly protected beach that allowed the prison dinghy to unload passengers and to take the Wardens off island on their days off. The dinghy ran once a week and all supplies were bought in on it. Only four people could authorise any extra operation of the dinghy; the Minister, the Heads of the D.M.L.E. and Unspeakables, and the Supreme Wugwump and in the last decade, only Fudge had ever used that power. Any other boat approaching the island would cause alarms both in the Ministry and the prison and the boat would find itself tracked and if heading towards Azkaban there would be a welcoming party of Dementors for it. If it crossed the ward lines and made landfall elsewhere, then the Aurors usually accompanied by some combat Unspeakables would be greeting it. The dinghy docked itself on the mainland when not in use.

       In short there was meant to be no way on or off that island that was not monitored. The Dementors were controlled. And even if there was a prison revolt, one where the prisoners and Dementors worked together, they would be trapped on the island and the Wardens would simply fort up in their Quarters and contact the Ministry for back up.

       Unfortunately for the Ministry, while Azkaban was well protected from assault from within and relatively protected from assault from without, it was not protected from a combination of the two. After all, who would want to rely upon inside help from a prison that drove its inhabitants insane? Who would want to break into the prison?

       The Dark Lord Voldemort did.

       And the Dark Lord Voldemort had.

       It had been a relatively simple operation, though it would have been more complex if the Dementors were not on his side. On the mainland a quick assault at the dock and an Avada Kedevra had dealt with the ferryman and the dark forces had gained access to the official Azkaban dinghy. The Serpent Lord, Kisha, and a team of ten or so Death Eaters had boarded the craft which was then magically propelled across the waters to the island. As it was the Azkaban dinghy its presence sent up no alarms. As they came into visual range of Azkaban Island, the watch warden personally discovered that while Dementors could not travel over water, they could climb the almost sheer cliff faces that made up the walls of the prison. Two grabbed him, holding him steady while a third administered the dreaded Kiss.

       At about the same time, in the lower levels, the Dementors assaulted Everett, Kissing the Muggleborn wizard before they glided up a level to the Gate and opened it for the Dark Lord's forces. Kisha and Death Eaters accompanied the Dementors up to the holding cell level, helping to clear the wardens from that level, and then Kisha and the Death Eaters went further, entering the Wardens' Quarters level to stun the Wardens. They paused before the Control Room waiting for the signal.

       Outside Voldemort wielded his holly and phoenix feather wand, transfiguring the sheer rock face into a path. It was pure brute force work and only possible because he had so much power available to him. The lack of any magic in the rock worked against him but he was not a wizard to be thwarted and had soon carved out narrow path leading upwards to the open courtyard. He could have blasted a path with any number of charms including some ridiculously over powered mining charms, but they made noise, so transfiguration it was. The path would last for about a day, which was more than long enough for his purposes. While the Dementors could access that area themselves by scaling the cliffs, neither the Dark Lord nor his Death Eaters were adept at climbing such sheer rock faces. The tiny track the Dark Lord transfigured was enough, and he met Kisha in the court yard. The Death Eaters followed a bit more slowly, bringing the stunned Wardens up to the court yard. A quick glance told him that the area was not warded against Dementors and he signalled his allies and several flowed down from the watch tower.

       Now came the tricky part, accessing and subduing the Wardens in the Control Room without them getting a warning off to the Ministry. There would be two or three Wardens there, probably lazing around since they were not expecting an assault, but if even one of them got off the alarm then it would change things. The Dark Forces could hold long enough but it would be so much better for impact if they could do this without an alert.

       "I'll do it," Kisha volunteered, "just get a Dementor to show up around their window as a distraction." The elder vampire grinned before she slid back into the Wardens' area, heading towards the control room. Voldemort gestured towards a Dementor who seemed to nod and flowed up the cliffs towards the control room.

       The Dementor hovered there and after a moment there came a flash from the window and a stunning charm was hurled towards the dark creature. The Dementor hissed but was otherwise unaffected. And before the alarms could sound there were follow up flashes from the control room.

       A moment later, Kisha appeared in the window. She smiled, looking down on the Dark Lord and nodded slightly to indicate that the Wardens were contained.

       Voldemort looked up to the sky. Night was just beginning to fall properly and what he had planned now would take a few hours. "Make sure those wardens are secure where they are, then start bringing the prisoners out," he instructed his now gathered Death Eaters.

       The Death Eaters nodded and filed back into the prison to return with their incarcerated fellows and all the other prisoners. The Dementors were grouping together in the courtyard, some hovering in the air above them. There were far more than Voldemort had thought and as the chill air they exuded washed over him, he suppressed a smile. While more meant he would have to provide more food, more meant he had more power; he had more soldiers. He looked up at them, but before he could gesture for one to come and speak to him, one broke away from the hovering pack and came towards him.

       "Dark Lord," the Dementor hissed.

       "Yes?" Voldemort answered. Most of the logistics of their allegiance had been worked out with those few who were at his stronghold. He had expected the need to qualify a few of the final points with those who were in Azkaban.

       "Our brethren have negotiated well," the Dementor said, "but we wish surety."

       "Surety about what?"

       "The Dark Lord," the Dementor said as if that explained everything.

       Voldemort showed no expression as he considered the creature's words. The Dark Lord. That was him...

       Wait no... _The_ Dark Lord. That referred to only one being. "The Shadow Lord?" Voldemort said softly, his tone one of fondness.

       "Yes, the Dark Lord."

       "What about the Shadow Lord?"

       "You do not fight against him?"

       Voldemort smiled as he understood. In another life he would have been raging at their presumption, now he just thought it quaint, even if completely archaic, the maintenance of loyalty to an almost mythical being. They were creatures of dark, and like all creatures of dark they tended to obey the Dark Lord of the day. Unlike other dark creatures though, it appeared they maintained an abiding loyalty to master of dark, to the master of the shadows, to the being who could be called _the_ Dark Lord, or conversely the Lord of Light. They would serve him but they would not fight Harry. It was a good thing that his beloved would most likely never order the Dementors against him in battle. Having their prior loyalties exposed to the Ministry would be embarrassing.

       "I do not fight him, I will not fight him, and he will stand beside me to rule for all time," Voldemort said.

       The Dementor considered this before it nodded and there seemed to be a flicker of shadow. "We will assist with the prisoners," it said and there was a streaming as the Dementors flowed down into the prison towards the holding cell level. A few broke away, pausing to Kiss the stunned Wardens who had been gathered by the Death Eaters and brought up. Their soulless bodies were stacked together carefully so as not to suffocate any. Voldemort hadn't questioned the request. It was somewhat trivial, but if it made them happy then so be it. The Dementors would naturally be getting any of those prisoners who didn't see things the Dark Lord's way, but they also wanted all the soulless bodies brought out of Azkaban. He had already set aside an area in his strong hold for them and the bodies would be portkeyed out with the rest of them.

       Voldemort smiled as Kisha returned to him and he gestured towards a chair he had conjured for her. He had quite a bit of work to do yet but was glad that he could confer with the Dementors while the vampire was out of hearing. There were a few things she did not need to know and while she knew he had an agreement with the Shadows, she was with him to find out exactly how deep that agreement was. It did not suit him to let her know that his agreement was with the Shadow Lord himself. She would run once she learnt that, back to her childe and back to his mate. He did not need Harry revealed early.

       The Dementors returned quickly as they had far less distance to traverse. They were herding the inhabitants of the holding cell and the short term prisoners before them. There was a general feeling of disbelief and some even whispered prayers. Voldemort played up the scene though there would never be any witnesses, inclining his head and levelling his gaze upon them from where he sat, his red robes draped regally around him.

       "You have a choice to make now," he said to the assembled prisoners, none of whom were his followers. Mostly these were just petty time servers. They hadn't done anything that bad and were probably in for a week or so for multiple offences. These were the wizards who didn't go home after being just that bit too drunk and things like that. Still there may be some with a talent he could use. If nothing else, if they agreed with him, they would be in his strong hold and beholden to him. If they later turned, well they could be fed to the Dementors then.

       "A choice?" One of them questioned looking around. The situation was very clear. Most of the Dementors had turned back into Azkaban, intent on retrieving the medium term prisoners but a few had stayed, several were behind the seated couple while others hovered in mid air and two remained beside the bodies of the Wardens, guarding what the Dementors thought of as rightfully theirs. The fact that there were no alarms blaring told the prisoners exactly what was happening.

       "Do you follow me, or do I give you to my allies?"

       For a moment the gathered prisoners looked confused, then insulted.

       Voldemort chuckled. "Did you think this war would not involve you? Did you think you could sit around and pretend that nothing was happening?" He seemed friendly enough, but most of the prisoners knew that he was a Dark Lord and that he could appear to be friendly even as he reached out with the knife to cut your throat. "This is the problem with the wizards. You all think that it does not involve you. Well, the rest of your pathetic society will face this choice in due course but for you, the choice comes now. Where will you stand, what do you believe in?" Voldemort's red eyes smouldered as he looked over the prisoners.

       Most of the prisoners looked confused. A few looked down, their faces thoughtful as they seriously considered the Dark Lord's question.

       "Think about it," Voldemort said, gesturing as the first of the Death Eaters returned, escorting one of their fellows. They had been instructed to bring the captured Death Eaters before him, one at a time. Each of the Death Eater prisoners would have to answer one question. Failure to answer correctly and they would be discharged from his service. They would be remembered but they would not adapt to the reality of this war.

       The Dementors settled around the prisoners who were considering their futures and Travers was brought before his lord.

       "My Lord!" Travers was surprised but he managed to bow low.

       "Travers," Voldemort greeted.

       "I knew you could not be dead, my Lord."

       "For a time perhaps," the serpentine man said softly.

       "I live to serve, my Lord," Travers said finally, bowing his head.

       "Then you live well," Voldemort said. "But for now, one question Travers. I forgive you for being captured, answer this and you will return to my service with full honour."

       "My Lord?"

       "Which is more important, power or blood?"

       Travers blinked, confused. His lord was as regal as ever and he could feel the power radiating off the Dark Lord. This was his Lord, despite the physical changes and the Dark Mark on his arm was currently jet black. The Death Eater who had freed him from his cell and then escorted him, aiding him as necessary up the levels of Azkaban had been silent but Travers knew he was amongst friends again and he had relaxed. His master had returned to full power and soon the Ministry would be bowing before them all. Now his Master was asking such an odd question. Blood or power? Both were important. Without blood there was no power but without power blood was useless. Squibs had the blood but no power.

       Travers frowned as he considered the question. This was definitely something that he had to get right or his Master would kill him. He knew that. "I would usually say blood Master and while that is important, power is more important." Travers finally answered softly, thinking of the never mentioned squib cousin he supposedly had. The squib had the blood of his family, that had been confirmed _most_ carefully but they were useless without the power of magic. Most families either banished or hid such embarrassments but Travers had witnessed the right that had removed the squib from his family. Not even the most complex or powerful inheritance charms would be able to detect the squib. It was as if they never existed though Travers could still remember the squib pleading and crying and the blood. There had been so very much blood as each of the incisions had been made. It didn't matter though, that blood was useless without the power. Travers had been just out of school when the rite had been suggested to him by the man who would become his Master. His family had been shocked but ultimately had been very pleased when it worked exactly as they had been advised that it would. And then his family had given their backing to his joining the Death Eaters. Blood was important, but blood without power... That was the answer his Master had always known.

       Voldemort nodded. "Very good Travers. Come, you may greet me."

       Travers came forward and knelt at his Lord's feet, reaching over to kiss the hem of his Lord's sleeve. As Travers rose, the Dark Lord reached forward slowly and gave his servant a small bead. Portkeys would not get you to Azkaban but they could get you off the island through the wards. After all, the wards blocked incoming traffic and all visitors were scanned to ensure that they had no port keys since they had a distinctive magical signature and Voldemort had not brought any portkeys with him. He had instead brought a collection of small beads and he was perfectly capable of making them into portkeys. Most wizards could make a portkey or three a day, only those of his level of power could create more.

       Travers disappeared as the bead transported him to the Dark Lord's strong hold where other Death Eaters, those experienced in healing waited to treat their newly freed brethren.

       "One sensible one," Kisha murmured and the Serpent Lord nodded as another of his servants was brought before him.

       "And many more to question," Voldemort replied as he turned his gaze towards Scabior.

===

       The Dark Lord stirred quietly, looking up at the stars. Anyone experienced in watching him would see the small signs of fatigue. Nothing major, just tiredness, and he was honest enough to admit to himself that he was somewhat drained. He had performed a lot of magic. The banishing of the Hogwarts Express's locomotive may have looked easy, but it had required almost his full power and he had created far, far more than the advised number of port keys today. Combined with the magical expenditure was the lateness of the hour. Even so, it had been a fulfilling day and was nearly over. The Death Eaters were bringing up the last lot of prisoners. He performed a Tempus charm without thought and knew that it was 01:43am. He'd been on Azkaban for approximately five hours with no one the wiser and Voldemort allowed himself a small smile at that knowledge. His task here was time consuming, but necessary.

       There had been forty-three Death Eaters incarcerated here in the long term section of the prison. The last three of that number were being brought out now. He would ask them the same question he had asked the others and once finished, then... he was leaning towards bringing down the anti-apparation ward, triggering the alarms and apparating out after letting the Ministry see him. On the other hand, leaving the island and wards intact but completely vacant of every living inhabitant also had a large appeal.

       It had been a profitable evening. Even if the Ministry was to appear right now it would still be profitable, though not a complete success. Each of his marked followers had been asked the same question, and each had been required to answer. A few had tried to evade the question by assuring him that they would follow wherever he lead but that answer was pure sycophancy and while pleasing, was useless to him. All his Death Eaters were required to answer and it had taken some longer to reply than others. The Dark Lord didn't mind that. On this question his followers had to be sure. So far only nine had answered incorrectly and even then it was really only four who were completely wrong. They had of course been given to the Dementors who had happily removed their souls from their emaciated bodies.

       Of the nine, two had been unable to answer. They had been completely comatose from their captivity and three had been completely insane. It was a widely held belief amongst wizards that Dementors drove the prisoners insane and that long term exposure caused victims to become comatose. This was wrong. The Dementors did not drive people into a coma, nor did they attempt to drive any of the prisoners insane. After all a comatose prisoner, while powerless to prevent a Dementors Kiss was one that did not provide them any food, no memories for them to eat, and they were only allowed to Kiss those who were sentenced to that. It was similar to an insane prisoner. The insane and comatose were not useful to the Dementors so they tried to ensure that the prisoners did not fall into either state. It is however a truth of the human psyche that continually having all your light and happy memories removed and reliving your worst memories almost constantly did drive some witches and wizards insane and did cause some to become comatose. It was a defence mechanism of the psyche to try to protect what memories it had left. Of course for those released from constant contact with Dementors, the fact that they were completely missing memories and the memories they were left with, did tend to make them rather surly. That was why most of the wizarding community thought the state was caused by the Dementors. They contributed, but they were not the sole cause. The real cause of the greatly shortened life expectancy of a prisoner of Azkaban was the prevalent cold, another feature of the prison that was merely enhanced by the Dementors, the lack of sunlight and the substandard food. All the factors combined to cause the conditions, but as it was easier to blame the Dementors solely rather than admit some responsibility for the centuries of suffering of admittedly some very bad people; the wizarding community blamed the Dementors for everything.

       Thirty one Death Eaters were now recovering at his stronghold and Voldemort allowed himself another small smile. The names alone would drive fear into the wizarding sheep. Foremost was his dear but newly widowed Bellatrix LeStrange. She had seen the bodies of her husband and brother-in-law and had merely shrugged, her face locked into an expression of rapture at his presence. She had also answered his question in less than a second. Introducing her to his mate promised to be... interesting. The others, while not as well-known would also serve their purpose. Even those who he had given to the Dementors would serve since without a body, the wizarding sheep would assume they were running free.

       Most of the Dementors had been portkeyed back to his stronghold with their trophies. They had specifically requested that every soulless body be given to them and transported to an area of the Dark Lord's stronghold that he had put aside for them. It was part of the cost of their service and their price of victims had been paid in triplicate. Most of the short term prisoners had seen the situation and had agreed to serve him. Voldemort already knew that at least some of them would be seeking means of escape once they reached his stronghold. All that meant to him was that he would feed them to the Dementors later. The short term prisoners would not be marked. They had some skills he could use but for the most part, their temperaments would not allow them to take his Mark. A few though had decided to make martyrs, and had been given to the Dementors. He really didn't understand their mentality. They couldn't honestly have thought that he would let them go? Wouldn't it have been better to show a little Slytherin-like cunning and live another day? It mattered not, they were no longer an issue and their bodies, along with the soulless bodies of the earlier gathered Wardens were amongst the first to be portkeyed out.

       Once all the short term prisoners had made their choice the medium term prisoners were brought out in a batch and had been given the same choice. Voldemort smirked. At least some of them had had some courage. A group of about twenty had decided to attack. Somehow they had recognised Kisha and objected to being vampire food. He'd waved off the Dementors and had quickly sent up a barrier to prevent his Death Eaters from interfering. He was not in any danger but did not need a stray wand getting into the prisoners hands. Once the area was secure, he had then given them an education in hand to hand combat. Most of the medium term prisoners had cowered, trying to put themselves out of harm's way. Those who fought were not that skilled and had been relying on numbers. Their condition also worked against them. While not as malnourished as his imprisoned Death Eaters, they were not in the best physical condition. Even had they been in peak physical condition the outcome would have been the same. With ruthless efficiency and brutal blows he'd dropped them all, breaking bones and knocking the rebels out with a rather casual ease.

       It was over a few minutes after it began and as he had resettled himself in his conjured chair he had signalled to the Dementors. _All_ the medium term prisoners were theirs. That had caused his dark allies a moment of confusion before they had swooped, gleefully consuming the souls and collecting the bodies. One prisoner had managed to jump from the cliff and the Dementors had looked mournfully at body as the ocean swept it away. They could not travel over the ocean. Water interfered with their ability to hover. Most water was not an issue, puddles and small ponds they could freeze simply enough. Moats charmed to be unfreezable were not a barrier as some ancient wizards had discovered in the past. Dementors merely rose high enough and sped over it. Wide rivers like the Themes now had many helpful Muggle bridges to aid their crossing. Lakes _could_ be an issue if large enough as they could not get enough momentum to travel over them, no matter how high they rose before attempting to glide over them. The sea though was one of the few water bodies they simply could not cross without help.

       Voldemort had created more portkeys and sent most of the Dementors and their newly de-souled trophies back to his stronghold before he removed the barrier that had blocked his Death Eaters to resume questioning their fellows. The long term prisoners were being brought before him in cell order but they were not all Death Eaters. It had been a surprise to find vampires here and Kisha had been incensed. She had portkeyed with the newly freed vampires back to his stronghold, saying that she was no longer needed and that the vampires would need her care to recover. He had smiled as she left and had actually chuckled when a moment after she vanished a large shadow almost seemed to curl around his chair.

       "I was beginning to miss you," he'd murmured as another long term prisoner was brought before him.

       The few Dementors who remained at that stage seemed to relax somewhat when the shadow whispered back. :We are not fond of vampires.:

       "Ah," Voldemort had said but the shadow remained silent after that. Their discretion was appreciated.

       Of the long term prisoners who were not Death Eaters, most had agreed to follow him. In the coming days they would receive the Dark Mark and be integrated into his forces. Some agreed with conditions, but those were pathetically easy to obtain. They usually wished to kill the one who had caused them to be sentenced to Azkaban. A few though had agreed only when Voldemort had impressed upon them the feeling of his magic. They may have been imprisoned for being fledgling Dark Lords but there was only room for _one_ Dark Lord and that was him. They would serve him or they would die. It was that simple. There were a few of the long term prisoners who had chosen death, some were comatose, others judged themselves simply too old and chose to die rather than be a burden. These were tough men and women even before they were sentenced to Azkaban.

       Voldemort brought his attention back to the present as Antonin Dolohov was brought before him. "Antonin," he greeted the man with an almost fond tone.

       "My Lord," Dolohov replied, bowing his head. "I knew it was only a matter of time."

       "It always is but time is something that is on my side," the Dark Lord replied.

       "I am ready to serve," Dolohov said. While he was about sixty and had been imprisoned for fifteen years, he looked like a man who was much younger. He was thin but he also moved with a certain ease that did not speak of imprisonment.

       Voldemort noticed the small things about Dolohov and felt a stirring of pride. Dolohov was one of his highest ranking Death Eaters for a reason and his behaviour just proved it now. "Then there is only one thing left to finalise. While there has always been a spin on our beliefs Antonin, in the end there is only one thing that is the most important, which is it Antonin; blood or power?"

       Dolohov chuckled. "My Lord, the spin we have put on the propaganda is really only for those who need a reason to act but even they couldn't act if they didn't have power. They convince themselves its blood that they require but it is power and it always has been power."

       The Serpent Lord nodded and Antonin laughed a little louder. "I take it you had to educate Lucius personally," he murmured.

       "It's a lesson he's continuing to learn," Voldemort replied. "Though more teachers are always welcomed," he added holding out a bead.

       Dolohov knelt and took the bead, smiling up at his Lord. "I will admit to a small worry, my Lord, when I heard that you had been defeated by the Potter-child but I knew that would not stop you forever." Antonin looked closely at Voldemort. "In fact, I think it has been for the better. Your power my Lord, always so strong is now much more focused."

       "That is something we will discuss further later," the Dark Lord said.

       "My Lord!" Dolohov snapped to attention and the port key activated.

       "Bring the next one," Voldemort instructed. "And collect the Wardens in the control room."

       Three Death Eaters nodded and filed back into Azkaban past their fellows who were waiting in the wings with the last two prisoners. No matter what happened now, the Light would know that this day was the beginning of the end. Azkaban emptied and the Hogwart's Express attacked. They would not soon forget this and they would tremble, knowing that it was his power that brought it to be.

       Only Mulciber and Gibbon remained to be questioned. The lower levels of Azkaban were completely empty and silent. While no one was there, if you listened hard enough, you could hear the waves. As Mulciber, supported by the Death Eater who had accompanied the Dark Lord to the prison, was brought before him, Voldemort took a deep breath of the sea air and decided that when they were finished here, he would leave the island intact, leave everything how it was and wait to see how long before the Ministry noticed that they were completely powerless against him.

       "Mulciber," Voldemort greeted his follower.

       "My Lord," the heavy set man replied, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips.

       "Those of my followers who have been in Azkaban have proven to be most pleasing," the Dark Lord said. "They have been shown to be loyal to a fault, and very strong. You are my true followers for you never forsook me even during the dark times. You rejoin my forces now with full honours but there is one thing that needs answering. Power or blood, Mulciber. Both are important of course, but if you cannot have both, then you must have one. Which?"

       Mulciber frowned. His Lord asked the oddest questions. Blood or power... Only the purebloods had true power but that wasn't what his Master meant. He was about to question further but there was an ear piercing scream as alarms became blaring over the island.

       Voldemort snarled as he came to his feet. So much for leaving a mystery but now he could go with his initial thoughts. "Get to the dinghy," he gave the order, making sure those in the Control Room could hear him. "Leave the Wardens if you have to. The Ministry will be coming in from the Control Room and the beach, and the wards just went up tighter." He cast his glowing red eyes around, looking at the magic as he tried to find the Anti-Apparition ward. "Apparate as soon as you can and _take_ the dinghy with you," he added the instruction.

       A glance at the Control Room revealed why the alarms had sounded. There was a numeracy ward on there. The alarm sounded if there was less than three living beings in the room but also sounded if there was more than five. The three extra Death Eater's had unknowingly triggered that ward and as it was a passive ward it did not show up as a threat or to the scans they _had_ done to detect the ward triggers. There was nothing to be done about it now but to get off the Island. It would take the Ministry a few minutes to get here, but they would have the tokens enabling them to apparate through the wards and the D.M.L.E. would be significantly faster than they were for the Hogwart's Express. His Death Eaters were moving quickly and already Mulciber and his escort were starting on the path down to the beach. They had retreated using the path he had cut into the cliff earlier. The others emerged from the gate and followed them down quickly.

       Voldemort followed along the track he had cut, still looking for the anti-apparition ward. Unfortunately isolating one was being difficult. There were simply so many wards and they interacted with each other in an odd manner, reinforcing each other obviously but with so many lines of the differing wards, finding one set was tricky, even for someone who could see those lines and the differing colours of each ward.

       He heard a shout, far earlier than expected and looked down to his followers on the beach. From his vantage he had a clear shot at the beach, and the curve of the cliff hid him from the control room. The Dark Lord snarled and began sending curses at the newly arrived Aurors. For a moment they didn't know where the jinxes and curses were coming from but it was long enough for the Death Eater's to launch the dinghy, magically pushing it far out into the waves, quickly out of range of most of the Aurors. After a moment the dinghy, with its passengers of Death Eaters and the comatose bodies of the Wardens disappeared, leaving the Aurors free to turn their attention to the red robed Dark Lord high on the cliffs. Voldemort smiled, forcibly transfiguring the rock into a shield as he continued firing.

       All he needed to do was separate one from the others.

===

       Amelia strode into the outer offices of the D.M.L.E., her fatigue leaving her as the alarm continued to sound. If it had of been an accident, the Wardens would have contacted them by now so this was the real deal. Her Auror teams were gathering but for Azkaban they needed a slight re-organisation.

       "Those who can cast a patronus, up front," she called, reordering the teams. "Anyone with a 593 in their profile, that's a _full_ sensitivity to Dementors, thank you for responding so quickly but you will not be required on this mission. Please alert St. Mungo's and organise those who follow. Anyone with a 304, that's partial sensitivity to Dementors, come through in the second wave.

       "This alert is Azkaban and we do not know the full situation. The Wardens have not given us any further information so we must assume the worst."

       Two teams of Aurors were forming in front of her. These were some of the best combat Aurors that she had who were capable of performing the patronus. As she was giving the very limited mission briefing, port keys were being handed out. They were keyed especially to Azkaban and would pass through the wards harmlessly, even the fully activated wards.

       "When we arrive, no matter the situation, patronus' are to be cast. I expect that the Wardens will be behind their wards and that the Dementors will be attacking. There _may_ be others there. _Anything_ that is not Auror or Warden is to be considered a threat and taken out with force. Any prisoners that are out of their cells are to be re-incarcerated immediately and quickly. Don't worry if they are out of their sections, just throw them in any cell. Team Griffon, you will Portkey into the Control Room. Assess the situation and send reports as needed. Team Sphinx, you are with me. We will arrive on the beach and will gain entry into Azkaban. Ideally we will work our way down to ensure all the prisoners are secure, but the situation may alter.

       "Teams Ridgeback and Horntail, you will follow two minutes after us to provide back up. Let's go people!"

       The Aurors gave a ragged cheer and as she joined Team Sphinx, grabbing her portkey, Amelia felt a stirring of pride. Her forces were obviously tired, but they had responded far faster than the best scenarios stipulated for an alert on Azkaban. No matter what they found, she was proud to serve here. As the portkey activated she shook her head. Morbid thoughts were not what she needed.

       There was a moment of disorientation after the portkey and she had an instant of silence before they were under attack. It was so fast that it even interrupted the casting of the patronus charms but Amelia was happy that she wasn't the only one who cast Protego. Amelia began looking around, trying to find the cause of the jinxes that were raining down upon them. She spun around, trusting the shields to hold as she looked towards the ocean. Cresting the waves and fast moving out of range was the Azkaban dinghy. There were a few Dementors at the prow and she could see the red masks of Death Eaters. With a growl to herself she dismissed them. Right at the moment there was nothing she could do about them and they were using magic to get out of range. They were not going to be a part of this battle.

       " _There_!" One of the Aurors shouted, pointing up the cliff face. Team Sphinx turned where it was indicated and Amelia was sure she wasn't the only one who felt their heart clench.

       Up on the cliff, where there was not meant to be a path, there came a billow of red fabric and Amelia felt her eyes widen and for an instant she was certain their gazes met, pale green to glowing red. It was only a moment and it didn't stop the constant hail of curses that the dark wizard was sending towards them. She had seen him before, briefly, but nothing could really prepare you for the sheer power that emanated from him. Dumbledore could project his aura but he mostly kept it contained for the comfort of other wizards and witches. The Dark Lord felt no such restraint and projected his aura out powerfully. It was almost suffocating and Amelia knew it would be affecting her team.

       "This changes _nothing_!" Amelia shouted, breaking through the despair that was almost like a fascination. "Alpha Units, keep shields up, betas, you have _one_ target. Deadly force _is_ authorised!" Her alpha moved to stand at her side, angling the shields upwards to account for the Dark Lord's superior height.

       The Dark Lord shifted slightly but his movement was limited. A fact Amelia was thankful for. That would help them. She began casting, not particularly caring what she was casting. They had to force him to shield. Then they could properly attack. She spared a moment to try to send a message to Team Griffon and Teams Ridgeback and Horntail. If they came in prepared then even the Dark Lord would fall against them all.

       Forty five seconds had never seemed so long.

       " _Rictusempra_!"

       " _Tarantallegra!_ "

       " _Incarcerous!_ "

       The curses flew back and forth. Most of them were relatively minor but anything that got through the shields was effective. Amelia narrowed her eyes as she took in the Dark Lord's reactions. He was attacking occasionally but he seemed to be focused on something else. As she kept casting she realised what he was trying to do. He was focused on the wards. The Death Eaters were out of range but he needed the anti-apparation ward and portkey wards down for him to escape. She smiled and cast more charms, keeping the speed up. Anything to distract him. While it was against her personal policy, it was not against some of the other Aurors policies and any number of them would have risked an Avada Kedevra but the Dark Lord was simply out of range to ensure accuracy. As a curse it was devastatingly effective, but _only_ if it hit but it was also draining. Her Aurors were experienced enough not to risk magical fatigue this early into what could be an extended battle.

       " _Densaugeo!_ "

       " _Reducto!_ "

       " _Defodio!_ "

       " _Confringo!_ "

       " _Attack the Dark Lord!_ " Amelia wasn't the only one to scream the instruction to Team Horntail as they appeared near them.

       " _Accio!_ " Voldemort cast the summoning charm with uncharacteristic force, levelling his wand at the new team, summoning an unlucky Auror to him.

       " _No_!" Amelia shouted as the Dark Lord grabbed the hapless Auror out of the air. A moment later the serpentine man disappeared. " _Wingard_ ," she cried, and she wasn't the only one, to turn their wands towards the now naked Auror who was tumbling down the cliff. The unfortunate Auror had hit the cliff a few times but as the magic caught them, at least they would not be swept into the icy cold waters that surrounded Azkaban.

       "What the _hell_?" The voice was young. " _Accio_ doesn't work on living beings."

       "Ah, but it does work on robes," Amelia recognised Sturges voice as he calmly explained. "And if you are in those robes, then you go with them," he added, almost with a chuckle. "For now, it does not matter we have a prison to secure."

       Almost as the words left his mouth, a member of team Griffon appeared on the path, near where the Dark Lord had been. Wands snapped up, ready to attack before they relaxed and teams Sphinx and Horntail reformed and started up the path, dreading what they would find in the prison.

 

 


	22. After the Express

Weapon   
Chapter 22 After the Express

===

       Narcissa awoke with a start, breathing hard. Her heart was pounding and she felt cold as the sheen of sweat covering her cooled. It made her feel uncomfortably sticky.

       She'd had another dream. She hadn't had one since she'd shown Draco what she really was, what he really was, though there had been a sense that things were working out. While he hadn't yet managed to master his full power, that was a matter of time. He had been able to manifest his wings but only for short periods so things were on schedule. She didn't plan for him to take on the Dark Lord yet, not without her help, but he would have to be powerful enough to take on the lesser. Powerful enough to recruit the next generation.

       But all of that had nothing to do with her dream. As with her previous dreams, everything had begun well. Draco had done his job and was gathering support and some of the Dark Lord's servants had turned against him, spying for them before the final battle when they'd come to stand with her forces, swearing allegiance to her son.

       In the final battle, they'd gathered their forces to challenge the Dark Lord. She'd taken some insurance from her memories of her previous dream and placed a special charm on herself and her son, a special charm her mother had taught her. It was something the Dark Lord had asked her about, had asked all his Death Eater's about, anything that might be used in his quest for immortality. She'd never mentioned this to him because it was something that was very specific and unlikely to suit him. It was a charm that protected them, it ensured that they could only be killed by one of the blood and it only worked because they were of the blood. That's why she'd never mentioned it to the Serpent Lord because he was not of the blood.

       The final battle had been long and fierce but that had been expected. They'd had to fight their way through many waves of dark creatures who had given their loyalty to the Dark Lord and most had been slaughtered but it had cost them some of their forces, nothing that was dangerous to their chances, but it had been annoying and had taken time.

       Draco had risen then, harnessing his full power and had challenged the Dark Lord and they'd battled, but the Lord's experience had been telling. Her son's power was great and while he held out against the Dark Lord, the experience was telling. Though despite the experience, since he was not of the blood, they were safe. Somehow though the Dark Lord had known about the charm and he had laughed, pausing in battle to question her son.

       Draco had been confused and she had stepped forward to fight then and the Dark Lord had laughed again. He'd looked at her, his red eyes calculating and at the same time disappointed. "You should have come to me, Narcissa. I would have forgiven almost anything, if you'd have just come to me. Now though," the Dark Lord's voice was genuinely regretful, "I presume you've cast the Blood Protection charm on yourself."

       "You can't kill us," she'd said. "You are not of the blood."

       "Actually," Voldemort had smiled in her dream, gathering power in his hands before he'd flung it at her and Draco. "I am."

       And that was the point she'd woken up, as the power had burned its way into her, ripping into her body, causing pain something that should not have been possible in a dream.

       She reached out to take the glass of water that was always beside her bed and took a sip. The ritual calmed her somewhat as she committed the dream to memory. Most dreams were just that, dreams, but she knew the value of her dreams; they were almost always a warning or a confirmation and she had learnt to take heed. Her previous dream had lead her to cast the Blood Protection charm and now her dream had changed, warning her that the charm would not be enough. There had been a change though. In this dream there was no tenshi present behind the Serpent Lord, so the charm had made some changes.

       This time though the Serpent Lord had indicated he was of the blood. In the strictest sense, all wizards were of the blood, but countless generations had diluted their blood until it was a pointless exercise to trace the lineages back to their tenshi connections because the power of the blood had been bred out. The only remaining trace to a tenshi was the ability to use magic. But what the Serpent Lord had done in her dream was something else. He had claimed to be of the blood and his power, burning into her had reinforced that claim in more than just a theoretical manner.

       With the tenshi previously in her dream absent did that mean that the Serpent Lord had taken their power? The Serpent Lord had used various ceremonies to not only reconstruct his body but also to reinforce and develop his power. Some of those ceremonies were dependent on blood so if the Serpent Lord had access to and used a tenshi's blood then that was the only way she could think of for him to be able to make that claim. Even for one conversant with the Dark Arts and who had agents always on the lookout for powerful or useful items, tenshi blood was an impossibility. Her mother had told her once, if not a thousand times that every tenshi had destroyed all physical traces of themselves centuries back. Which only left the possibility of a tenshi giving him blood, but none of them had an interest in the wizarding world and none of them would help one who could potentially affect the world of magic... Ollivander had said as much. So there was no way for the Dark Lord to actually be of the blood, not literally.

       Unless... was the dream was more abstract? It could mean that he was not of the blood but had the power of one.

       Narcissa blinked as she considered that. She hadn't actually died in her dream but had instead woken because of the pain so the Blood Protection Charm may still be working in the dream. After all, she remembered ruefully, the charm only meant you couldn't be killed, not that you couldn't be tortured or injured. So the possibility existed that he could match her power and in matching her power could cause her great pain while never being able to land the killing blow.

       If that was the case... Narcissa shuddered, considering the years of torture she knew the Dark Lord would inflict upon her if he could. If that was the case and he had the power to match her then perhaps she shouldn't let Draco take the Serpent Lord on. The battle would cement his claim to the title of Dark Lord and would ensure his followers, but perhaps they would be better served foregoing the theatrics of taking him down in open combat. Perhaps they would be better served by removing the Serpent Lord any way they could and cultivating followers separately.

       The only problem with that was the only way she could see to get close to the Dark Lord was not an option. If she revealed her true form and was magnanimously lucky then she _might_ be able to get close enough to the Serpent Lord to strike him down but that was not a sure thing. While she had no doubt the knife would penetrate, she wasn't certain that even a heart stroke would be enough to finish him. And even if it was, it was unlikely to be instantaneous and he would use the time to gather his power for a final strike. Even assuming that it all went well, _she_ would be cut down by his loyal Death Eaters before she could escape because this was one thing where she couldn't just strike and hope that the reaction was what she wanted. She would have to wait until he was dead and then to be safe, she would have to destroy the body. The other alternative that was available with going to him was to fight him, wizard versus witch. She could stand up to him. Her full power would be enough to fight equally with him and that would eliminate the need to get physically close enough to him. But she would be at a disadvantage due to the Death Eaters. There was no way that the Dark Lord would be arrogant enough to accept a one to one dual... and even if he was, she wouldn't put it past his loyal followers to strike at her. Victory, after all, went to the one who _won_ , not to the one who had honour. So while she might be able to get physically close enough to fight him in a dual, it wasn't an option.

       And that only left longer range possibilities. Poison was unlikely to work, even assuming they could get it into either his food or the environment. He was immune to most and those he wasn't immune to could be purged via a simple transformation into his animagus form as the purely internal magical transformation cleansed both blood and organs. She could hire a magical assassin but the price of that was ruinously high, even if she could find one that was willing to take a shot at the Dark Lord or willing to die for that shot and even if the shot was taken, she knew the Dark Lord had insurances against that. She and her son could even support the Light to help them fight him but in that path lay their doom. The instant Lucius had begun to move, they could no longer support the Light, even if they could somehow convince those forces that they were loyal. No while that path may take out the Dark Lord, it also meant the end of Draco's chances to rule. Some things could not be sacrificed.

       Narcissa shook her head. No matter what her dream meant, or what secrets would come out, both she and Draco needed to be both more powerful and more skilful. They needed to take advantage of every opportunity and remember that they were not Gryffindor, they were Slytherin and victory went to those who _won_ the battle and they would have to use any means necessary to achieve that victory. She would find a way to give her son that victory... one way or another.

===

       Harry sat in the Great Hall, nibbling on a piece of toast. He'd always been accustomed to waking up early and his training over the summer just reinforced that so he wasn't surprised that the others in the dorm just slumbered on. He'd actually been comforted by it when he got up and rummaged in his chest for some clothes. It had only been one night but already the dorm was back to its usual messy self. He'd missed it - the general companionship and the noises of others sleeping soundly. He hoped they'd follow him when it was time to choose, though if he could, he intended to rather selfishly take their choice away. Ron and Neville would have to consciously side with him, the others would probably just go with the flow.

       He'd slipped out, letting them sleep and had headed down to the Quidditch pitch. He needed to do his exercises as well as stretch out his magic a little and he could do both while flying, though not in his animagus form, but on his Firebolt. He didn't want the others to know his form this early. It had been a simple thing to slip past the vampire who was on guard. The shadows had merely wrapped around him, hiding him from the senses and he'd walked out carrying his broom and with a happy shout. Once he reached the pitch he'd taken off, shooting straight up.

       His hair was already messy and the hour and a half of flying and exercises hadn't done anything great for it, but Harry was at least clean. He'd had a quick shower at the changing room for the quidditch teams and then had slipped back into the castle. He had classes today.

       After Voldemort's attack on the Hogwart's Express and the subsequent chaos, it had eventually been decided that classes today would be only for the Fifth Years and up, while the Fourth Years and below would have a free day that was filled with activities. The activities would be fun and were designed to calm them down, especially the Muggleborn students. The proper Welcoming Feast and Sorting would be held tonight.

       A few students wandered into the Great Hall, and then there was a burst of noise as the First Years were lead in by some of the teachers. They would just scatter around the tables and Harry wondered idly if the first day of school mixing with their entire year level rather than being split into their Houses would lead to a different dynamic for them. He hoped so. Some of the divisions were rather silly.

       Harry jumped slightly at the sound of his name being called and he turned towards the doors as his friends came into the hall.

       "Oh thank goodness. We were worried, Harry," Hermione said by way of greeting.

       "Good morning," Harry replied with a smile. "I woke up early," he added the explanation for their benefit.

       Ron snorted. "You could have woken me."

       "And have you miss out on your beauty sleep?"

       Ginny and Hermione chuckled at that. Ron was not a morning person.

       Ron flushed, his face turning almost the same colour as his hair and he had the grace to look chagrined. "You could have woken me," Neville said at last, diverting attention from Ron's embarrassment.

       "I could have," Harry agreed, "but I only went flying; gotta practice for the quidditch season." The smirk was heard in his voice. That was something he had to do actually. He had to book time on the pitch so that they could hold try outs.

       " _Wake_ me next time," Ron said with force as the others laughed. The team was pretty much gone with the others graduating and they all knew that Ron had his sights set on the position of Keeper.

       One of the Seventh Years came by then, bearing papers. "Our schedules," Hermione said happily, picking them up and shifting through them. "Wow, Harry!"

       "I know, I know," he said, green eyes smiling at her.

       "What the hell?" the question came from Ron as he snatched one of the parchments from Hermione. "What the hell is this Harry?"

       "Ron," Harry said seriously, his tone of voice almost cold. It brought the rant the red haired boy was about to launch into to an end. Harry had been hoping that Ron wouldn't react like this but he'd expected it and he was going to head off the feelings of jealousy and inadequacy the other boy no doubt felt early. It would also help him deal with his _own_ feeling of betrayal at his friends almost attack. "I will explain tonight."

       The youngest male Weasley took a deep breath, obviously wanting to say more but with a firm motion he snapped his jaw closed. A very quick glance at Hermione showed her to be worried and after another calming breath Ron nodded. "Thank you Harry. I'm sure the explanation will be interesting." Despite the fact the words were snide, they were genuine. Ron was trying and for the sake of their friendship, he would wait before he made assumptions... or he'd try to wait.

       "Have some breakfast then we can go to class."

       "That in itself sucks," Ron grumbled, back to normal as he served himself a large breakfast.

===

       Amelia downed an extra large dose of Pepper-up Potion. She was so tired that the usual steam from her ears was merely a whisper. First the Express, and then Azkaban. She was not as young as she had once been and the lack of sleep was telling, but there remained so much to be done.

       They had managed to keep the news of Azkaban from the papers but she didn't know how much longer that would be the case. All the Express concerns had been put to the junior Aurors as the more senior members of the Department tried to get lists of everyone whom every prisoner might contact now that they were out. A significant portion of the Aurors were also trying to work out exactly what had happened.

       "You need sleep."

       Amelia didn't even look up as the Head Unspeakable sat down opposite her. "Unless you have a list or more information, Croaker, I really don't have time to chat."

       The man chuckled. "I don't have a list, but I do have the time line of events... which I suppose is a kind of list."

       "More good news," Madam Bones groaned. "Tell me the worst," she said breathily, sighing even as she spoke.

       "Well, the Dementors defected, but that's blatantly obvious. They were the ones who did most of the dirty work though, subduing the Wardens while the Death Eaters rode over on the dinghy. I still don't know who took out the control room but it was one person whose magical signature isn't on file, even as an unknown. You-Know-Who spent quite a few hours on Azkaban. Doing what, we are not sure, but pretty much all of the prisoners left from the open court yard near the top. Port Keys were used extensively, but we have not been able to track their destination."

       "So what you are telling me," the head of the D.M.L.E. said softly, "is that the attack on the Hogwart's Express was merely meant to be a diversion."

       "One that worked spectacularly well," Croaker said with an odd smile.

       Amelia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. While she would not call Croaker a friend, the two of them had worked together for years, she was aware of most of the Head Unspeakable's quirks. "So, the Dark Lord was on Azkaban for hours... doing what?"

       "That I don't know," the robed man said. "But the astral and other instruments are very clear on that. He arrived at about sundown and remained in that courtyard until the Aurors arrived in force."

       Amelia reached out her hand, shuffling through some papers to find a list that had been complied very early for her. It was a list of prisoners in Azkaban. She shoved it towards the Head Unspeakable. "If we assume that all the imprisoned Death Eaters returned to their Master, that still leaves us with twenty eight long term prisoners, three of which are vampires, who could be now serving him. I think we can assume at least one or two will betray him but that isn't something I want to rely upon."

       "And the other prisoners?" Croaker asked. "Sixty short term and sixty medium term prisoners."

       "Who knows? I would have thought if he was going to raid, he'd just take his followers, since the others are such a mixed bunch. There is no guarantee that any of them will follow him but he's taken them all."

       "Probably for sacrifices. I hope."

       "You _hope_ they are sacrifices?"

       Croaker looked tired. "Better dead than the alternative."

       "The alternative? What aren't you telling me?" Amelia demanded.

       Croaker looked around her office for a moment before he raised his wand, casting a small privacy ward. It covered only her desk and the immediate area around it, but she recognised the casting. It was a special ward used by the Unspeakables and was practically unbreakable. No one would hear what their Leader said for the moment.

       "Do you know how Dementors reproduce?" He asked, with a sudden seriousness.

       "No," Amelia frowned at the question. Her school days were long ago but she could remember her Care of Magical Creatures class on Dementors because it had been singularly short. Dementors were loathsome beings that most did not want to be near. They could not be kept as pets, and their only use was to guard the most dangerous, the most despicable prisoners the wizards had. How and what they fed upon was common knowledge and there was not much more to know. Their Defence against the Dark Art's class gave out more information than the Care of Magical Creatures one.

       "When I became the Unspeakable Leader, Dementor reproduction was covered in the information pack. It's not a pleasant process."

       "How?"

       Croaker shuddered. "I won't go into all the gory details but for Dementors to reproduce they need magical victims. In summary, the soul is removed from the body, then a part of it is replaced. Yes," the Head Unspeakable answered Amelia's question before she even asked. "They can reverse their Kiss if they wish but for reproduction they only replace a tiny fraction of the soul in the body. After that, the victim's magic core is twisted as every last memory is extracted and various other tortures are performed. Then, at some point the last bit of the soul is removed. And that is what makes a new Dementor."

       The D.M.L.E. Head groaned. "So... potentially one hundred and twenty new Dementors are being created as we speak?"

       "Probably not all of the prisoners," Croaker said, not bothering to hide his own sigh. They were not in a good position. There was no point in pretending otherwise. "A few of the medium and short term prisoners probably have some skills he would want to use but yes, I fear that the Dementor population will go up shortly."

       "Don't you have any good news?" Amelia said as the Unspeakable dispelled his privacy ward.

       "The Prophet has no idea what has happened. The Quibbler has already sent a note saying they will hold off on publishing any detail about Azkaban until we give the okay."

       "How the _hell_ do they know already?"

       "No idea," Croaker laughed. "Most wizards view that paper as rubbish but they do publish the unvarnished truth... as they see it. Don't be too comfortable though, Xenophilus wrote that he could only wait so long."

       "I'll write to him," Amelia promised. She was truly grateful that she won't be dealing with the mess that would be caused by the news of the Azkaban break out today or tomorrow. In fact having The Quibbler break the story would probably be best. They wouldn't put a spin on the story that glorified the Ministry but instead they would merely report what had happened and provide warnings and advice on what should be done if any of the wizarding community encountered an escapee or a Dementor. And with what she had just been told, that information became far, far more important than every before. "I'll also have the advised procedures sent to them and a list of prisoners. I'd prefer them publish it over The Prophet anyway. At least I know Xeno won't change it. There is though, one last thing?"

       "What is it?" Croaker asked as he rose.

       Amelia looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "I've seen Dementors destroyed before, is there an easier process?"

       Croaker shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, not that I know of but I will have the Department check. If there is, we need to know about it now."

       "I'd appreciate it."

       "Get some sleep, Amelia," Croaker said as he left her office. "Don't make me pull Ministerial Rank on you to see that you rest."

       "I'll go to bed soon," the head of the D.M.L.E. promised. "Or at least I will give orders that even if the Dark Lord himself is attacking that they aren't to wake me," she said the last with a small smile that was returned as the Leader of the Unspeakables left.

       Amelia closed her eyes briefly. This wasn't going to be the first time she had such a conversation with the Head Unspeakable this year. Of that she was sure.

===

       Voldemort walked down the corridors of his stronghold. He'd slept late, and after checking a few of his newly-freed Death Eaters, it occurred to him that he had been remiss in his duties. His healers assured him that his followers would recover, especially with the amount of potions they would be consuming. It would take some time before they would be effective in combat but he could hold out that long.

       It would give him some free time to deal with issues he had ignored. He had invited several groups to be guests, and he had been neglecting them.

       :You have been,: the shadows whispered to him. :But they are close to the Dementors so that has been sufficient for now.:

       "But not enough," he replied. "Unfortunately, while I have the time now, I don't think that will continue. I'm going to need something more appropriate than the Dementors."

       The Shadows chuckled. :We would like the purely Muggle ones moved as well. Kisha has been asking a few too many questions for our liking.:

       "Oh?" he raised one eyebrow.

       :She seeks proof that you and our Master are allied.:

       "So she's asking the prisoners?"

       :She's asking everyone she can... discretely, of course. She has the good taste to be discrete about it, and she's even trying to hide it from us.:

       "She obviously needs more practice at that," the Dark Lord snorted.

       :She thinks she has.:

       A quick smile flashed across Voldemort's face. The Shadows were truly masters of the game.

       "Where would you like them moved?"

       :Put them in with the Dementor's prisoners,: the Shadows answered immediately.

       "They won't eat them?"

       :Not without permission they won't. And neither Shadow or serpent will give permission now, will we?: the Shadows laughed the question before they continued. :We have already instructed them not to answer the vampire's questions, but it would be good if you did, too.:

       Voldemort nodded. He knew the Dementors were loyal to the dark first, they had said as much when they had questioned him on Azkaban, but since his beloved would never call them to his service, they would serve him as the Dark Lord.

       "What are they doing with their own prisoners?"

       :Making more Dementors.:

       "Ah, so that's why they were so insistent on getting the bodies."

       :Yes, that's why all Dementor Kissed victims, even Muggles, are taken by the Ministry. They do not want the Dementors coming back to finish the job.:

       "Interesting and something I rather approve of, but unfortunately it does not deal with the prisoners I have."

       :Those you are keeping for our Master are easy. You are a Legilimens, lock them into some appropriate memory, and stash the bodies with the Dementors. They will keep until our Master is ready, which will probably be soon. As for the traitors, we would suggest just killing them as they are not worth keeping.:

       "I think I can do better than that for Lucius."

       :True, but the others are good only as food.:

       "What about their light?"

       The shadows humphed dismissively, :Now that we have started to feed from our Master's light, their light is ... stale.:

       One of the Dementors floated down the rather dark hallway to meet them at that point. Voldemort gave it the instructions, having it bring each of the Muggles before him, where he briefly rummaged around in what was left of their minds, trapping them in a circle of memories he provided. They would live what they had done to his beloved until they were released from it. The Dementors presence would take care of punishing their physical bodies.

       :Not these four,: the shadows said suddenly as the final Muggle prisoners were brought before him. Voldemort vaguely recognised them as the Dursleys and the man who had been the one to suggest the entire thing to Vernon. The Dark Lord had discovered that he was more of an organiser. He was the one who found most of the children for the others, talking with others of similar tastes. It was a classical rebellion-like cell, effective at hiding and protecting the organisation. If they were part of a larger group, Voldemort didn't care. He had the ones who were important to him. The Dursleys had changed from their time in captivity. They were all dirty, covered in blood, faeces, and half healed wounds, many festering, but none had been allowed to become life threatening. For the moment they were more important to him alive. Vernon and Dudley were almost thin; their skin sagged off them in unlovely folds, while Petunia was skin and bones. Almost every one of her bones could be seen though some were now deformed, from where they had been broken and inexpertly set and healed. All four were snivelling, but all four still had the eyes of the sane. They still knew they were being punished and still experienced anguish from it.

       Voldemort smiled. Their physical appearance didn't bother him and the last pleased him. "What do you wish done with these?"

       :Give them to your newly freed Death Eaters. We will reinforce their protections against insanity. So long as no one kills them then they will be fine,: the Shadows said easily. :A different fate awaits these four anyway.:

       "Hmm?"

       :You'll see.:

       "True." Voldemort had continued into the area of cells once he'd finished with the Muggles. The Shadows were right, for the most part, those who had followed Lucius were only good as practice dummies before they became food. Those of his follows who had remained loyal could amuse themselves practicing on them before they were fed to creatures loyal to him. There were so many that appreciated human flesh and many would follow him forever for the taste of wizard flesh. That would be their fate, that and to be wiped from memory. "Though I think I have time to have a chat with Lucius."

       :Oh yes, that would be best.:

       Voldemort slipped into a non-descript cell. Lucius was inside, sitting in the corner. He was restrained by the simple expedient of a chain around his ankle, gauntlets on each wrist and a thin torc of iron at his throat, all embedded with magic-draining properties. Even if Lucius was skilled in wandless magic, the draining effect would require him to use all his magic to perform even the simplest of tasks, assuming he was strong enough in the first place now that the vampire blood was completely out of his system, and there was an additional charm on the restraints. They would heat up if there was too much magic in their presence and were even now uncomfortably warm for Lucius just because the Serpent Lord was near.

       "Good morning, Lucius, I trust you have been well?"

       The former leader of the Rebel Death Eaters didn't look up. His blond hair was lank and almost transparent and like all other prisoners he was thin. His clothing, the same as he had worn on that night was ripped and torn, but that was of no concern to the Dark Lord. Idly he conjured a chair for himself.

       "No reply, Lucius? Really, how rude."

       "Hrgss."

       Voldemort's red robes rustled as he chuckled. "How eloquent!" He said feigning delight. "I did promise you would be screaming my name, didn't I?" the Dark Lord questioned, mostly to himself. "I have been rather remiss in that, but I think you have been a rather forgiving guest and have done much of the work yourself." Lucius' occulmency shields were almost gone. The Dementors had done some of it, but if a wizard was determined they could keep raising their mental defences almost indefinitely against the Dementors. No, Lucius' shields were crumbling from within as his doubt, guilt, disbelief and worries fed endlessly upon his mind. :Where is Kisha?: The red-eyed Dark Lord asked silently of the Shadows.

       :Above with those new Vampires you rescued,: the shadows replied.

       :Good.: "You still don't believe it, do you Lucius," Voldemort said. "You still don't believe that the Shadow Lord stands by my side."

       "How the hell does Dumbledore not see that?"

       "Ah, you were one of my favourites Lucius, because there are times when you see straight into the heart of the matter. Dumbledore doesn't see because he doesn't want to see. That and the Shadow Lord is very good at hiding."

       "That still doesn't explain it. How? You are persuasive, but I somehow doubt you had much to offer him."

       "I had everything to offer him Lucius. But it was the truth that was the most important thing."

       "Truth?"

       "The truth. It is such a simple thing, but so often so very hard to find."

       "So you never were obsessed?"

       "I never said that. But his power is worth the time it took to court and seduce. It may be obsession, Lucius, but it is obsession with power. And that is why you lost. Power is more than blood."

       Lucius blinked and then seemed to dismiss the matter. While it may be an interesting academic question, it really wasn't one that affected him either way. The how and the why of the matter was not going to change his situation. "What happens now?" The former Death Eater asked.

       The Dark Lord was surprised. He had not expected Lucius to be resigned so quickly. The answer was the same though. "Most of the idiots who chose to follow you will be executed as time goes on. You will watch as the Light falls. Though Lucius, you should feel thankful. My plans for you do include your death. Harry is nowhere near that merciful."

       The Shadows chuckled. :You figured it out?:

       :I suspect I know,: Voldemort replied. :But I'll wait to see if my suspicions are correct.:

       "Draco and Narcissa?"

       "Narcissa has had the time to return to me but has not. Your son? Your son is of no concern to me. I wager though Xeoaph is interested in him for the blood price you promised but cannot fulfil."

       Lucius chuckled though his laugh was strained and phlegmy. "Draco can't pay the price," the dishevelled wizard muttered.

       "Oh, you made the pact specific to you?" The Dark Lord was slightly impressed. He didn't think the elder vampire would have agreed to that, since tying it Lucius made avoidance of the price rather easy.

       "No," the elder Malfoy shook his head. "Draco is special. Magical debts do not transfer to him. I don't know how it happened I just know that it's impossible for the debt to be transferred."

       Voldemort laughed. Assuming Harry didn't get to Draco first, it would almost be amusing to watch the elder Vampire try to extract payment. "I don't think he will get the chance to find out," the Serpent Lord remarked. "After all, you of all people know what your son is facing."

       "I just told him to make sure Potter was occupied."

       "Apparently then he likes to improvise."

       "What did he do?" Lucius' voice showed some real interest.

       "Before or during your little insurrection?"

       Lucius rubbed one finger over the bridge of his nose. "He said something to me about making Potter too scared to do anything before we attacked and I never heard what he did during it."

       The Dark Lord could tell Lucius was speaking the truth. Or at least, what he believed was the truth. "I suppose I will have to take that into consideration when disciplining you then. I suppose I should have known. You would have had a bit more style in the attacks. Draco was positively crude. Rape and Avada Kedrava are not subtle, but that is a conversation we can have another day. I really have been neglecting my promise to you for too long, though. I will be disappointed if it comes about today."

       As expected Lucius stiffened, but he maintained enough poise not to skirt back. He was still an aristocrat at heart.

       "I also ask you to forgive the hypocrisy. Cruciatus is not subtle, but I'm in a bit of a hurry, and it gets the job done. _Crucio_!" The Dark Lord didn't bother going for his wand as he cast. Crucio was a common and familiar spell to him after all.

       The blond jerked as the pain curse hit him, but he was still proud enough not to scream. While he was resigned to his fate, he still maintained some of the pride that had lead him on this path. He would scream the Dark Lord's name, though Voldemort was oddly pleased that it would not be today. It would be so disappointing if Lucius really was that weak.

       The Dark Lord lifted his Crucio for a moment, allowing Lucius to catch his breath before he cast the curse again.

       As the blond once again curled into himself as the curse raced through his body, the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. It would not do for him to neglect Lucius for so long again. For today he had the time, but for the future, he would have to make the time to ensure the senior Malfoy was well cared for.

===

       "All right, Ron, I'll explain now," Harry said easily. He and his friends were in a disused classroom. He could have arranged for privacy in the Gryffindor common room but Luna wanted to be there, and he could have invited them to the other room he had for his use this year, but he wanted to keep that to himself as a sanctuary if he needed it. They could have used the Room of Requirement, but a few too many people knew of that so they were in one of the many empty rooms of the castle. Harry had put up a few wards, including proximity and sound proofing, but they would have to be quick to get to the Feast in time.

       "Please, Harry that would be good," Hermione answered for them all.

       "First off, yes I did my O.W.L.s over the summer and I don't know the results yet, but I do know I did well. I think I even passed my N.E.W.T.s with them."

       "What! How is that possible?"

       "Fairly easily," Harry replied with a shrug, "because after the first two O.W.L.s, they replaced the papers with N.E.W.T. papers. I noticed. They don't think I did, but I did. The other thing you must remember is that I didn't just do the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in those classes I took. I did them in everything."

       "Harry..." Hermione said. "How could you have done that? Arithmancy and Ancient Runes aren't simple subjects. You just can't make something up like you can in Divination."

       Harry turned green eyes towards her, smiling easily as he ran one hand through his hair. "I know. I probably can't explain everything now but you know that Voldemort and I have a link through my scar."

       The group nodded, though Hermione's eyes clouded with worry.

       "I have Occlumency shields to block him out and Fawkes is helping with that now that I'm a member of the Order. But this scar isn't all I got from him on that night."

       "We know you are a Parselmouth," Neville said.

       Harry sighed. "No Neville, it's not just that. I got _everything_."

       "Everything?"

       " _All_ his knowledge, _all_ his skills; everything he was at the moment the _Avada Kedrava_ rebounded to hit him. _All_ of it came into me."

       "Oh my god, _Harry_!" Hermione whispered, her voice shocked.

       "I know," Harry said seriously. "Some of it I can't use," he swallowed hard. "I just can't. Some of it though... it's really useful if you just use it in the right circumstances."

       "It? What is it?" Ron asked irritably.

       Three pairs of eyes turned towards Ron, almost in disbelief while Luna just smiled. It took a moment for people to realise the question was genuine. Ginny sighed, and Neville just looked pleadingly towards Hermione who chuckled slightly. Harry just looked a little amused. In the end it wasn't such a bad question after all.

       Hermione began the explanation though. "Ron, you know what happened when Harry was a baby, right?"

       "Yeah, You-Know-Who tried to kill him, but the curse rebounded and all that," the youngest male Weasley said, simplifying events extremely because it was more than a bit silly to discuss things with the person in front of them.

       "The curse rebounded Ron, and Harry got that scar but that wasn't all that he got that night."

       "What? What else was there left to get?"

       "Everything Ron," Harry said seriously. "Not only did I get this scar and the ability to speak Parseltongue. I got everything else, all his skills, all his knowledge, all his memories, everything Ron. It took a long time for it to come out, but it's all in here." He tapped his forehead.

       "Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, falling back into the chair behind him. "So you went into the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s knowing everything?"

       "Pretty much."

       "Bloody hell!" Ron repeated before falling silent for a few moments. From the frown on the boy's face they could tell that he was thinking hard. "Bloody hell," the red head said again softly. "I have never been more glad that you are you, Harry."

       The group smiled at his statement. It was so Ron.

       "There's a bit more of course and a lot more theories and things like that besides it, but that's why I am taking almost every class. Keep in mind though, that I don't have to take those classes. I'm taking them and am attending school because I want to. Because I want to be here and I want to be with my friends."

       "Oh Harry," Hermione's eyes were bright with tears.

       They sat for a few moments in silence before Harry stirred. "We'd better get to the Feast. I wanted to explain this early so that you all knew. There will be odd things going on this year, but no matter what happens, I want you to know I am your friend, but I _make_ the decisions for my future. Even if you think they are wrong, they are MY decisions and I will live with the consequences."

       Luna looked up at the ceiling. "And the Ministry and the Order and everyone else, us included, have put you in the position where we must live with the consequences as well," she murmured without rancour.

       "Let's get to the Feast," Neville said unexpectedly. "Thank you for explaining, Harry," he added as he slipped off the desk he had been sitting on and went to the door.

       "Thank you for listening," Harry said as he dispelled his wards looking at his friends but keeping the considering expression from reaching his face.

       Ginny looked just slightly smug. She was hiding it well but for those who knew what to look for, the expression was there. She hadn't heard all this before but she knew it and she was feeling superior because of her prior knowledge. Not obnoxiously superior, but it was there. Perhaps she had the right to feel that way, but inner Harry didn't need a girl who was not above childish games. She had the sense not to brag so Harry tried to keep his thoughts reasonable.

       Luna looked as dreamy as always. She'd seen to the heart of the matter and as was normal for her, she did not seem concerned. She'd already accepted that he would be making the choices for himself and that those choices would have an impact on her and wizarding society, but she had also accepted that they were his choices to make. She would offer advice in that round about and almost incomprehensible manner she had, but she wouldn't try to force him. :She doesn't accept everything Master,: the Shadows said suddenly. :But she does have the sense not to use force when that will only make things worse. She will fight though, Master, when she feels that is the way and she will be dangerous when she does. This one is not as ineffectual as most think.:

       Mentally, Harry cocked his head at his servants. He had not expected their advice or their commentary on Luna, but apparently they were interested and they had seen her in a different light from the rest of them. :Not really Master, we just have the time and the experience to see the truth.:

       Harry nodded before shifting his gaze away from Luna. She would do what she thought was best, much as he would, and he would respect her choices as she would respect his. If they disagreed they would disagree and fight. That was her honesty and he would give her honesty in return.

       Neville looked thoughtful but not particularly scared. He was obviously thinking about what he had heard and while he seemed to be accepting, Harry knew better than to just make that assumption. Neville would and could stand up for what he believed in. It was obvious from his stance though that he hadn't quite realised exactly what it meant that Harry would be making the decisions for the future, or that if he had accepted that realisation then he was assuming, as was almost everyone else, that his decisions would be those that were assumed.

       Hermione looked ambivalent. Harry could tell she was slightly jealous that he had seemingly been given all the information she studied so hard for, but at the same time he knew she knew the cost. At the moment she was jealous of the idea of the information though in time he already knew she would decide the cost was not worth it. It was better to study hard for herself to obtain the information than to gain it the way Harry had. Underlying that though, there was concern. It showed in the faint frown on her brow. She knew what it meant that he would be making decisions, but she wasn't assuming they would be the ones everyone thought he would make. She was considering other things and other paths but right at the moment Harry couldn't tell if she would try to convince him to a particular side. Hopefully, she wouldn't simply because she did not know the full situation.

       :We will keep watch. We always keep watch.:

       Ron was... well Ron seemed relieved, as if something that had been bothering him was finally put to rest. :He wasn't that concerned why I was doing all those classes was he?: Harry asked the Shadows with a degree of incredulism colouring his mental voice.

       :No,: the shadows said slowly. :It's something more than that,: they added.

       As they walked down the corridor towards the Great Hall, Ron moved to walk beside Harry. "I'm glad you explained," the red-haired boy said.

       "You guys deserve to know, just I couldn't explain this morning in front of everyone."

       "I know and I'm sorry for making assumptions."

       "It's okay, I don't know what I would think in a similar situation," Harry said honestly.

       Ron looked pensive for a moment. "I know there is more stuff you aren't saying Harry," he said. "But I also know you will tell or explain in time, so I'm going to try not to nag or be angry over that. There are things the Order probably told you that you can't tell us. Mum and Dad had a talk with Ginny and me over the summer to remind us about that."

       "Did they?"

       "Yeah," Ron grinned. "Mostly to remind us that if there is things you can't or don't tell us, then it's probably not your fault."

       Harry smiled. "Well, your parents are very wise. And yes, there are one or two things I haven't told you," the black-haired young man said the last seriously. "I want to tell you, but this isn't a game and you know it. Some of it will be very surprising and it will either win or lose the war, so when I tell you Ron, I have to know that you are going to stand with me."

       Ron blinked both at the seriousness he could hear in Harry's voice but also the note of desperation. It made Harry's statement of earlier, that he wanted to be here to be with his friends, that much more potent. And suddenly he knew, that whatever Harry wasn't telling them was something that was going to change everything. "I'll..." Ron started, before realising he had no idea what to say. He thought for a few more moments. "I'll try to see things from your point of view Harry, when you tell us and to give you the opportunity to explain, no matter how surprising whatever you decide is."

       Green eyes flicked over Ron carefully before Harry nodded. That was all he could ask from his friends, that they would try to see things his way. He hoped they did, because there were very few others who would.

 

 


	23. Observations of the Past

Weapon  
Chapter 23 Observations of the Past

===

       The Sorting Hat had a unique job. Some called it a boring job and while that could be true for a great deal of the time, it was however a job that could leave the ancient artefact almost breathless. Most would think that rummaging around in eleven year olds' heads would be mundane, but most only got to rummage around in the surface thoughts. Skilled Legilimens tried not to delve too deeply into the forming minds of children or adolescents lest they leave some sort of impression, but the Sorting Hat was bewitched with skills that even the most highly rated Legilimens only dreamed about. The Hat didn't just delve into the surface thoughts; the Hat delved deeper into what gave each individual their individual traits. The in short time it was on the new students head, it saw all memories, saw all drives and ambitions and if asked it could predict a great deal of the students future. Most eleven year olds had no conscious profound thoughts, but beneath that, in their subconscious, even at eleven, a lot of the base for their lives and future decisions had already been set.

       That's not to say that some individuals didn't encounter life changing epiphanies sometime after they turned eleven; just that most individuals didn't. What they were subconsciously at eleven was what they would remain for the rest of their lives.

       And thus in the present day, the Sorting Hat had seen what Albus Dumbledore would become, driven as he was by the guilt of his sister's death. The Hat had seen that Aberforth would be bound by love and resentment and by the belief that he was normal and thus he would lead a relatively normal and quiet wizarding life. The Hat had seen the pain in Tom Riddle's soul. It had also seen the burning ambition and the Hat had known then for that young man, peace would only come when he found another who understood his pain. The Sorting Hat had seen into the depths of the myriad of pureblood wizards and witches who blindly believed in their superiority, it had seen the naive and almost childlike beliefs of the Muggleborn wizards who were just discovering their futures.

       Living as it did in the Headmaster's office all year around, the Sorting Hat had a fair idea of the general situation in the Wizarding world. Everyone spoke to Dumbledore at some stage and the Hat got to listen in. So with all of its knowledge, it wasn't often that the Sorting Hat really wanted to see inside one of the students heads again but today, as it waited on the stool watching the elder students gather, it could see the changes in the school and in some individuals and those changes didn't follow the life path that the Hat had foreseen. Something had happened. Something life changing had happened and it had no idea what.

       The change centred on two of the Sixth Year students and radiated outwards towards their friends and via that the rest of the school. As the Hat cast a glance backwards, it could also see a few alterations in the staff. The new staff were at the table already, as was to be expected, but some of the older staff were being drawn in. The Potions Master may think he hid his distress and turmoil well but hiding from a creation that had had a glimpse into the depths of your soul was much harder. In Severus there had been a depth of loyalty that would put any Hufflepuff to shame but it was focused on one woman. In that form it was almost an obsession, one the woman had not returned. She had been fond of him, and that fondness could have become love with the right circumstances, but she was never going to be as blindly devoted to Severus as he was to her and that would have caused them problems if they had of become a couple. Since they hadn't, that had left Severus pining after the impossible. Right at the moment though, he was only pining after rest. Behind his Occlumency shields his mindscape was a mess. It was skittering around almost plaintively as it sought to escape something... something that seemed as insubstantial as shadow.

       The Hat crinkled in a frown. Shadow..?

       The Sorting Hat turned its attention inwards, delving deep into its memory but before it could track down the reason shadows seemed oddly familiar, its attention was drawn back into the present by the procession of the First Years. Once it was back in the Headmaster's office tonight, it would have a lot to think about and the Hat wondered if it could somehow come up with a reason to be placed on the head of a few people again. In due course, the events of the world would let it know what had happened, but it wanted to know now!

       The Hat took another look around as the Headmaster made his obligatory introduction for the new students and explained what would happen to sort them into new houses. Hogwarts looked almost united, though the changes it could sense in the two main students would soon affect that unity. The Hat could feel that the two of them would choose their own futures and the rest of the students would either have to follow or fight. Unity didn't concern either of them and while neither of them wanted to fall on the path they chose, if they fell, then they accepted that as a part of the price of forging their own future. The only problem was if they fell, then they would take those who had followed them down as well.

       Usually that wasn't such a big problem, but at the moment any loss could be disastrous. He would sing of a warning but at the moment, it didn't matter if he just came out and said it, no one would take heed. The Dark Lord was still there and he should still be the primary target. They could not forget that. Though the Hat had to think about what it could remember of the Shadows. It had been so long since... since... since what it didn't recall but the stray thought had caught it unguarded. There was definitely something about shadow that the Hat knew and that was trying to come to the fore. It was something ancient, something tied in with the Hat's beginning. It would take a while to find, but as soon as the sorting was over, the Hat could somehow feel it needed to know what that memory held.

===

       Harry lay on his back, looking up at the canopy of his bed. The curtains were drawn and around him; he could hear the soft snores of the others. They had fallen asleep quickly after their night time Astronomy class. He smiled to himself. It was definitely comforting and while from past years he was used to it, he conceded to himself that it may become overwhelming. He was someone who occasionally needed his solitude.

       It had been a hectic day, ducking in and out of classes, explaining things to his friends and generally behaving as if he was normal. He was feeling energised though and almost too excited to sleep. Things were finally happening! Once he established in his heart and mind whether his friends would follow him or not, then he could either abandon the pretence of school or continue on. He wanted his friends to be with him but even if they didn't he still wanted to stay at Hogwarts. It was close to Dumbledore and you could never keep too close an eye on the old coot. The man held too many positions in the Wizarding world to be ignored.

       But that wasn't what Harry wanted to think about now. Over the next few days things would begin to happen. There was a full moon, so Remus would test out the charm that had been cast upon him. Harry had no doubt of its efficacy, and Remus would be pleasantly surprised when he spent the transformation complete with his human mind. The Headmaster had already said that Harry could _not_ spend the time with the werewolf, even in his animagus form which meant that Remus would be alone... or rather he'd be spending it with Gideon. The Death Eater Werewolf was still in hiding. Harry sighed, reflectively. That wasn't going to be fun for Remus, keeping the other werewolf in line, but he would manage. Once he recovered from the effects of the full moon, then Remus would go to the Gathering and...

       :And our alliance with the werewolves starts there,: the shadows filled in as Harry's thoughts faltered.

       :Does it?: Harry asked. He could think of many things that could go wrong. In the end he knew that he would be allied with the werewolves, or they would ally with his Beloved, but establishing this alliance smoothly was almost as important as the alliance itself. A smooth establishment showed any watching creatures that they were organised and that they would keep their word. It showed the world that they were capable and that was a very important consideration.

       :Oh, there will probably be problems,: the shadows conceded, :but in the end Master, you are correct; they will ally either with us or with Voldemort. Remus will argue our case and he will be very convincing but it's possible the others will follow the Serpent Lord anyway, out of habit probably.:

       :If they follow Voldemort, that's the least of our concerns, though it will be disappointing,: Harry said as he let his mind entwine with the shadows. :Remus will follow me, or maybe Sirius either way but where does that leave us with Snape?:

       During classes today Harry had gotten a good look at the Potion Master. He'd spent time with the greasy-haired man all summer and those lessons had improved his sword technique immensely, but during those lessons the Potion Master had always been controlled and focused on teaching. He'd answered questions when asked but generally the lessons went without much talk. The formal phrases of 'Bow. Salute. Begin!' did not count as conversation. Because of that he had not really been able to track the Shadows as they worked on the Potion Master. It hadn't concerned him until now. What would he do with a seduced Potion Master, if he had no need of such thing?

       And the Shadows were well on their way to seducing the man. It had been obvious if you knew what to look for, though Snape had done an admiral job in continuing his usual behaviour in class. But beneath that, the Potion Master had been trembling and every little noise that was out of the ordinary had caused him to start; every flicker of light through the high windows had him glancing around nervously looking deeply into the shadows for things that weren't necessarily there. There had been one change though. The dungeon was usually dank and dark with plenty of places for Harry's servants to hide in. Snape had announced at the beginning of the class that he fondly hoped that better lighting would make for better results, though he didn't expect much from the dunderheads.

       The shadow that was under Harry's robe had chuckled into his master's ear at the brilliant lighting that was now affixed to the dungeon walls and ceiling. :At least everyone will be able to see which ingredient is which.:

       Harry had agreed silently before he turned his attention to the class.

       :Snape will be ready when we need him,: the shadows replied to Harry's question, supplying him with several images of the Potion Master. The singular time he allowed himself to acknowledge the Shadows was becoming longer and longer and they were playing on that, highlighting to him how much nicer it was when he didn't have to look over his shoulder for them. :We thought we might tell the Serpent Lord that we are taking him. Snape will betray him at some stage, we do not want Voldemort to see our protection of the potion master as your betrayal.:

       :Good,: Harry said, before he yawned. Perhaps he wouldn't have the long talk he wanted to have with the Shadows tonight, but there was one more thing that needed to be discussed. :I still don't know what you want me to do with Ginny.:

       :You are doing fine with her,: the Shadows reassured him. :Xeoaph wasn't completely fooled at the station, but the vampire has centuries of doubt. Dumbledore and the Order believe it. The question is rather what do you want to do with her?:

       The black haired boy sighed. :She's necessary,: he admitted with a less than good grace. :But how necessary is she for the long term?:

       The Shadows seemed to blink. :She is necessary,: they agreed. :And she's necessary for reasons which have not come to light yet. Circumstance will define if those reasons come to pass. We play the game master and we play every aspect of the game so there are times when our plays come to naught. We would have more knowledge of her and the reasons master, but at the moment, it's just another thing that may or may not happen. We aren't sure. Past the end of the year though... you are correct, she becomes just another witch. Unless you want to breed master?:

       :Maybe someday,: Harry said, and was surprised by his own response. :But not for the moment. Even then I'm not sure I'd want her.:

       :So leave it for the moment Master. She's necessary for now. When the situation changes, it would be best to examine then the best options for dealing with her.:

       :Nothing is set in stone,: Harry murmured mentally.

       The Shadows chuckled. :Even if it was Master, you are adept at Reducto.:

       Harry smiled at their quip, but he was losing the battle against sleep. :We will talk when we have solid information, Master,: the Shadows whispered to him. :We like to speculate, but talk is more productive with facts so sleep now and we will talk later,: the Shadows whispered the last as their master drifted fully into sleep.

===

       In the Headmaster's office, the Sorting Hat sat on its shelf. It had sung it's warning, which had mostly been ignored as it had expected and then it had sorted the students. There had been a small difference this time as the students had known each other for a day or so. Hopefully they would keep the friendships between those it had been forced to separate on their respective personalities. Then the Hat had been transported back to the Headmaster's office and put away. It was then that the Hat had been able to consider the discrepancy it had noticed earlier.

       With a few muttered words the Hat had put itself into a trance and had begun sorting through its oldest memories. Its existence was almost a mistake. Godric and the others had cast charms on it, but that was near the end. Riding around with Godric for as long as the Hat had was really what created it. It had seen both great and common magic. It had been present when the foundation for Hogwarts was laid and infused with magic so that the castle truly lived. It remembered that well. Infusion magic was an art lost to most now and it was never anything that had been the most precise branch. They, the Founders, had meant only to infuse the Heart Stone, but the Hat had also been infused and at that point, it had gained true consciousness. Because it had been around magic for so long though, it could remember, vaguely, some of the things that had happened before it was born. Though those weren't the memories the Hat was searching now, they did make for some interesting telling. The Hat had seen more than the Founding though. It had accompanied Godric through everything; it was just the Founding improved its ability to remember.

       It was the memories from after the Founding that the Hat was searching through. The fleeting memory of shadow was linked somehow to Godric. History today would have the Founding being as a great step forward and something that was supported by wizards as a whole. It was not. While there was logic in making a standardised education, for many years the presence of so many witches and wizards in one place, even though most were fledglings, had caused many problems. Hogwarts was a castle because it _had_ to be a castle. Defence was the first priority, firstly from the Muggles who had launched periodic attacks but perhaps more importantly from other wizards and witches and their dark desires. Sacrificial magic was potent, and while it was strong when powered by the pain and death of a Muggle, it was infinitely more powerful when the victim was magical. Taking a student from their teacher was usually painful when it was one or two students with an experienced teacher. But the ratio at Hogwarts was far more favourable, especially if you could separate one of children from their teachers.

       The Founders weren't combat specialists, but they knew their stuff. They and the few teachers who helped at first were all proficient in fighting spells. Dark Arts and Defences had been one of the first agreed upon subjects, not so much to fend off other wizards as to fight off other dark creatures. Vampires, Werewolves, even lethifolds were common place though now the lethifold was extinct on the islands. The world was a dangerous place and the students needed to learn that.

       The Hat frowned as it came across an interesting memory. The castle was under attack from Muggles controlled by Vampires. It wasn't such an unusual situation for the time and the Hat could remember Helga fighting with her staff, and it could remember Rowena's skill with her daggers and Salazar's ability with the long sword but it couldn't remember Godric. Now that couldn't be right... Surely Godric would have been there as well? How did he remember what the others fought like if Godric wasn't there? Why wasn't it on Godric's head?

       If the Hat had of been human it would have sighed, as it was though, it focused its attention more clearly trying to see the battle from a different perspective. Most did this by loading the memory into a Pensieve, but over the years the Hat had developed the ability for itself. It could, with sufficient concentration, hold a memory and move around in it though it could not go beyond the bounds of the memory. It was a useful skill for searching through what it had seen. It took a while, there were many on the battle field but eventually the Hat found Godric. He was near the back, holding the gate with some of the senior students and most importantly he was not using magic. Why was he not using magic? Why was he not up the front? Why was someone who looked like Godric up the front fighting? Obviously someone skilled had to hold the gate but that was not one of the Founders' jobs, it was a job for one of their trusted assistants.

       Maybe there was something about that battle that meant Godric couldn't fight. The Hat didn't want to draw conclusions so pursued other memories. This time it was Giants who were doing the bidding of a group of Dark Wizards that were attacking. Once again the Hat could remember the others fighting, combining their magic to get through the skins of the Giants. They were effective but once again the Hat had to freeze the memory and look for Godric who he eventually found helping treat the wounded. Again the Patriarch of the Gryffindor house was not using any magic beyond some basic healing charms. Again it was odd and the Hat looked for another memory.

       Trolls lead by human-form Werewolves.

       Dark Wizards and Witches riding Thestrals.

       Acromatula.

       Ghouls and hags.

       Dementors.

       Goblin armies.

       Chimeras and manticores.

       Muggle armies.

       Animal-form werewolves.

       The memories of battles went through the Hat's mind and each time he could see the other Founders fighting with both magic and weapon and he always found Godric, either near the rear, fighting _only_ with his sword or he was helping attend to the wounded, using only simple healing charms. A phoenix was sometimes seen with him, a phoenix that looked suspiciously like Fawkes.

       The Hat continued to search his memory. There was no reason he could see for Godric to always hang back yet there must have been. Godric was known for his fighting skills. How could he be known for his skills if he never fought?

       Finally the Hat came to a memory of a dragon, herded by goblins attacking the castle. It didn't seem as serious as the other attacks but there were many goblins and there were a few other dark creatures attacking. The hangers=on were easy to deal with but the dragon was difficult for the others. Salazar's serpents could do nothing, Helga's trees and vines could not hold it back and Rowena's skills meant nothing to it. They could hold it off, they could defend, they were the most skilled wizards and witches of their age but they could not drive it off, not with their attacks being split between dragon and goblins.

       After what seemed to be hours of combat, the Hat could sense Godric's frustration. He had been helping treat the wounded this time, and it had been a steady stream of burns and cuts and arrow wounds. He'd patch them up and they would head out again. More serious injuries were laid around the infirmary. The defenders were tiring though, even the Hat could sense that and once they tired, it would only be a matter of time. This was not what anyone wanted. Godric had sent a message to the outside, his patronus pulsing strongly with his voice.

       All the defenders fell back to the castle walls and as the last of the external defenders retreated through the Great Gates, Godric had stepped through them carrying only a wooden staff wearing robes that were jet black and had no crest. The Goblins had momentarily thought this was Hogwarts surrender. They were quickly debased of that notion.

       The Hat watched the memory as it unfolded. It almost didn't know what to think.

       Godric walked away from Hogwarts, straight towards the dragon, allowing himself to be surrounded by the goblins. He stopped about twenty metres from the dragon and sat, placing his staff across his knees. In a soft voice, Godric had spoken. "You have this one chance to withdraw."

       "Withdraw?" The Goblins questioned before they laughed, their little voices high with scorn.

       "Or be destroyed," Godric added.

       What struck the Hat was the soft assurance it could hear in the wizard's voice. There was no question to Godric what would happen. For a moment the calm assurance shook the Goblins but only for a moment before their belief in their superiority returned. For all intents and purposes they had the upper hand. They had the castle's defenders exhausted, they had Godric, one lone wizard completely surrounded and within range of their dragon. They had no reason to leave.

       "Go ahead," one of the oldest goblins said. The goblin was thin with narrow yellow eyes and scars running over his face. His armour was old and dented but of good quality. The Goblin was probably one of the main leaders and Godric had just looked up at him sadly, a soft smile on his face.

       There was a moment of stillness before the darkness flowed out from Godric and spread everywhere, covering everything. The dragon snarled and belched fire that was quickly quenched by the darkness. The dragon's jaws were forced closed and its head forced skyward. It screamed, too much like a human for comfort but it was not strong enough to break the bonds that were forming around it. The goblins had been at a loss for a moment before they jumped towards Godric, blades flashing in the setting sun. None of them got to within three metres of Godric.

       The Hat didn't really know what happened but the darkness that extended out from Godric seemed to wrap around them and brought them down to the ground with grunts of pain. The grunts quickly turned into screams and the darkness spread, stretching to encompass all the goblin armies that were gathered and all the others that had been participating. Everything was brought down to the ground and it seemed for a moment that a huge lethifold was covering the grounds around Hogwarts. It was a darkness that writhed as the individuals within it fought for a few moments before it stilled showing little lumps over the fields. The lumps though didn't remain and quickly flattened out.

       The only creature that was not squashed into nothingness was the dragon. It continued to struggle against the bonds but they held. The darkness spread over the grounds around Hogwarts for about half an hour before it began retreating back to Godric leaving only empty armour and tattered fabric in its wake. Tears were streaming down Godric's face as he rose and walked to the dragon. He cast carefully at it, cutting away the physical chains that held it in place but the darkness did not move. It formed a thick band around the dragons muzzle and forced the massive creatures head down. Godric looked into the dragon's eyes.

       "Leave now and live free," he said to the dragon before turning to walk back to the castle.

       Once he was out of range the darkness retreated from the dragon, flowing back into Godric's clothes. It shook itself before looking balefully at the retreating form of Godric. It was only a moment and the dragon made no move to attack before it unfurled its wings, flapping them experimentally. It roared and flew off and the memory faded into nothing.

       _That_ certainly explained a lot. Power like that... it was a good thing Godric was scared and sad to use it. If he had of been any other man he could have ruled the world. But what was that power? The darkness obviously answered to his conscious call but it ... the Hat wasn't sure. It seemed as if there had been something more there... except it didn't know what.

       The Hat brought its attention back to the present, though there was little to observe in the Headmaster's office this late at night. That power was definitely what had triggered the memory earlier today, though that had been focused on Snape. The Hat allowed its eyes to half close as it continued to think. Snape did not and could not control that power but it was interested in him. Did one of the students now control that power, or was one of the students now controlled by that power? Godric was a grown wizard, a strong man with the ability to restrain himself and to resist the call of darkness. While many of the students would develop into great witches and wizards, those who would have the strength of mind to be able to resist all temptation were few and far between. There was only a few in each generation and not all were tested. Snape had the ability but it would only manifest in certain circumstances and the circumstances in which Snape could stand strong were gone so he was a hollow man and those who knew how to take advantage of that, would.

       The Sorting Hat sighed. It really did need another look into a few minds. Somewhere, someone knew more than they should but if they were a pawn or the master, that remained to be seen.

       So much had changed, yet so much remained the same. The Hat just was not sure at the moment, which was which.

 

 


	24. Uncertainty is the Beginning

Weapon   
Chapter 24 Uncertainty is the Beginning

===

       Remus looked up at the night sky as he tested the locks. The moon had not yet risen, but he gave a feral grin anticipating that tonight would be the last time he feared it. Gideon was with him, but the Death Eater werewolf was keeping his distance. While Remus had kept his word, Gideon was still a bit skittish about being with someone who he expected to turn him in. It had been a challenge to keep the Death Eater undetected, but Lupin was a man of his word and as soon as the full moon was over they would leave for the Gathering.

       He would have liked either Sirius or Harry here. But there were both political and practical reasons they could not be. Well... Lupin smiled again, perhaps there were no political reasons, but the practical still held sway. While Remus had every confidence in the charm that had been cast, if anything did go wrong he would prefer for it to go wrong when both Sirius and Harry were well away from any damage he may cause. They would claim that they could help him, but Lupin knew better. If something went wrong then there would be nothing anyone could do but watch, and he would never willingly allow either of them to watch.

       "Pack Leader?" Gideon called out to him softly.

       "Yes?" Remus turned away from gazing at the stars, looking deep into the Shadows where Gideon was curled up.

       The other werewolf looked uncertain for a moment. He was nervous about undergoing the change in an unfamiliar environment with company. He knew that Remus was a fellow werewolf and so couldn't be hurt by his werewolf form, but knowing did not dampen fear. And fear had been drummed into werewolves from the time they were known. The punishments handed out by the Ministry tended to be swift and final.

       "Are you... do you really think that the charm will work?" Gideon asked in a rush.

       "Ah," Remus murmured, understanding. He glanced towards the horizon where the moon would rise before he replied further. "I usually use a potion, Wolfsbane, to avoid losing my human mind, but the person who brews that for me is currently not in the right frame of mind so I haven't taken it."

       Gideon looked both hopeful and depressed. "So you have never tried this charm?"

       "No," Remus said with a smile, turning back to the Death Eater. "However, I have every faith that it will work. Remember, the charm is something that works on desire. I want to retain my human mind, therefore I shall. That's how this charm works."

       "But what if you don't?"

       "Then it won't matter. You and I will spend our time together as werewolves and in the morning we will leave for the Gathering."

       The Death Eater werewolf looked down, thinking.

       Lupin sighed. "Gideon," he said quietly. "It's not as good as you think, keeping your mind during the change. Keeping your mind just allows you to see how much damage you could do, how many people you could turn. In many ways it's easier just to give in to the animal because then you won't know. It's different when you actually know."

       Gideon shook his head. "That would be fine, but as far as the Ministry is concerned, you are held responsible for your actions, whether you remember them or not, whether you had control or not. I've been in werewolf form on attack nights for the Dark Lord. I've bitten innocents. I don't know who or how many. I've forced myself not to care because I consoled myself with the knowledge that there was nothing I could do. But now you are telling me that it's wrong, that there were, there are alternatives? How am I meant to go on now?"

       The elder werewolf took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I cannot help you with all of that Gideon. Even if you didn't know there was a potion, you chose to be a werewolf unchained and to allow the Dark Forces to herd you into attack. That is something you will have to deal with. What you know now is that there will be alternatives if the Werewolves take the offer that has been given to them, and what will matter from then on is if you allow yourself to be used as a weapon even with your human mind. The charm may depend on will but the Potion has none of that weakness. Then it really will be your choice.

       "This offer does not stop us fighting Gideon. The power behind this offer wants our services in one battle and I rather suspect they will only want those who can keep their minds in werewolf form. Then Gideon, the choice to fight will be personal."

       Remus would have said more but he felt a familiar twinge pass through his bones, a twinge that was echoed by Gideon as he stiffened. Moonrise.

       "Are you ready?" Remus forestalled further conversation by asking the question.

       Gideon gasped. Already the pain of transformation was effecting him. "No," he grated out the answer. "But I will be okay," he added, snarling as his teeth began to elongate.

       Whether it was because Remus had been a werewolf longer, or because he was accustomed to maintaining himself, he wasn't affected as badly in the early stages. He looked towards the rising moon, focusing his thoughts on Sirius. He had found the easiest way of going through the transformation was to think of his friends and to remember the joyful surprise he had all those years ago when they had appeared by his side in their animagus forms to help him through everything.

       Tonight though, Remus focused on how much more fun they could have had if he had of been able to keep his human mind. They had roamed the forest freely but they could have roamed with purpose, could have found every little secret within it. A soft smile graced his features as Lupin considered the possibilities. He didn't even feel his teeth lengthening into fangs or his bones shifting beneath his skin, some elongating, some contracting, as they forced his body into that of a wolf.

       For anyone observing, it would appear that two werewolves were changing into their animal form with the rise of the full moon, but for those who could see magic, one of the transformations was markedly different. Around Lupin's head was a band of light that was almost like a crown. Running down his neck from the back of it were six ribbons of light. Two ran over his shoulders and down his arms ending in bracelets around his wrists, another two traversed their way down his spine before flaring out with his hips and running down his legs to circle his ankles and the last two traced their way under his arms, crossing over his chest and running over his belly to disappear under his groin. They formed a human shape on the wolf he was becoming and as the transformation was complete, Remus raised his muzzle and howled in triumph!

       There had been pain, but the charm had been far more effective than he dreamed possible... Or... Remus laughed, the sound odd from the wolf's throat... The more powerful the person casting the charm, the better it was and Lupin would lay down any money that Harry had been the one to cast it on him. Sirius would have done his best, but Prongs Junior was far more powerful and had more of a vested interest in ensuring the charm's efficacy. No matter how it happened though, he was completely in control of the wolf.

       There came a snarl from beside him and Remus turned. Gideon was fully transformed as well and like most wolves, he had sensed the threat of another male and was attempting to assert his dominance. The response was instinctual, and Remus didn't even think about it as he snarled in reply, his ears pinning themselves back as he bared his teeth at the other werewolf. The fur on his neck raised and he dug his claws into the ground.

       The werewolf Gideon seemed stunned and almost yelped as he recognised the superior wolf. Remus' snarl softened slightly as the other werewolf backed away, and lowered himself to the ground in submission. There was only one pack leader here.

       Satisfied, Remus turned his attention inward. He could still feel the wolf within him and the instincts were strong and would help in controlling this form. What did he know about running on four legs for example? The wolf did and that information was unconsciously there for him to call upon, but control lay with his human mind.

       Some people had a romantic notion that all a werewolf had to do to maintain control during their transformation was to accept the wolf and to bond with it or something like that. Remus snorted. Some people were idiots who had no idea what it really meant to be a werewolf. You could accept the wolf within you all you wanted, Fenrir was a brilliant example of acceptance, but that did not grant control. It was an animal. It had an animal's instincts and desires and those were simple; eat, survive, procreate. For werewolves that didn't mean sex, that meant bite which was why they were considered so dangerous. Even if you were a werewolf like Fenrir, with a human side that desired and embraced the wolf, that did not lead to any greater control. It was simple; a werewolf on the night of the full moon was an animal. Without WolfsBane potion there was no escaping that.

       Though perhaps now there was.

       Inwardly, Remus smiled. Even before he knew who the Shadow Lord was he had been convinced that the werewolves should follow that course of action. The effectiveness of the charm was just something he could use to convince the others. The Dark Lord was seductive and tempting, the Ministry was order but unlikely, and the Shadows were unknown, It was time to step out of the expected paths and to take the unknown route because that was the one that gave them true light at the end of the tunnel.

===

       Harry awoke with a start. His breathing was heavy and the remains of a nightmare retreated into his subconscious. It had been a while since he had a nightmare and usually he could recall them without any problem. Years of dreaming about Voldemort meant that he could recall all the gory details, but this was different. This had faded quickly leaving him with the impression of fear.

       He didn't like the feeling. It made him feel sick in the back of his throat. Harry tried to focus his attention on something else, drawing deep breaths as he sought to calm himself. He rolled over, cracking open the curtains on his four poster bed to look over towards one of the windows. Dawn was beginning to lighten the sky so it was almost time to get up. With a sigh, Harry shook the last of the nightmare away from him and swung his legs over. If sleep was escaping him then he should make a virtue of the fact he was awake and get up. He had a lot to do today, anyway.

       Green eyes blinked in the thin grey light and he grabbed a towel as he headed towards the bathroom for a shower. :How did Remus go last night?: Harry asked the Shadows that were everywhere.

       :Perfectly,: they replied. :Though he did work out that it was you who cast the charm,: they added with a slight laugh.

       Red lips twitched with a smile. Remus was not stupid though he often didn't get a chance to show his full intelligence as circumstance seemed to conspire against him. :That doesn't matter,: Harry dismissed the matter. :Have you found Xuld or the others yet?:

       The Shadows seemed to sigh. :We think so,: they said but they did not sound sure.

       :Where?: Harry demanded, stepping under the hot water.

       :Where do you think?: his servants sounded disgusted. :The Malfoy Mansion.:

       :I take it Narcissa was the Malfoy who should have been watched?:

       :Probably.:

       Harry was silent for a while as he bathed, ducking his head under the spray to wash his hair. As he turned off the water he looked back towards the Shadow that was up in the corner of the ceiling. :You can get around most wizards or witches, so why can't you get through whatever defences the Malfoy Mansion has?:

       The Shadows growled softly, but Harry could tell they were not annoyed at him. :She's a halfling,: they said.

       :A halfling?: Harry asked as the dried himself, rubbing the towel through his hair before wrapping it around his waist and heading back to the dorm.

       :You have the potential to be a full tenshi, master but she is a halfling and we are annoyed at ourselves for not knowing this earlier. We would have never allowed her to gain such power if we had known.:

       :You can't know everything,: Harry said comfortingly. :And you can't watch everyone all the time.:

       :We are meant to watch the players better. We had no idea she was a halfling until she visited Ollivander.:

       :And what does Ollivander have to do with this?: Harry pulled on his robes before heading down to the common room. As expected, it was empty and he shook the last of the water out of his hair as he savoured the quiet.

       :The wandmaker is a tenshi, a full blooded one. He will not be involved because his job is to watch.:

       :Watch?:

       :His job is to watch wizards for the tenshi. Some like yourself can affect their world so they watch. They only act to protect their interests.:

       :Ah,: Harry nodded as he exited the Fat Lady's portrait, intent on heading down to the Quidditch pitch. It was one of the few places in the school he felt comfortable. He knew that it was not safe but it was away from the hundreds of portraits that could watch his every move, his every expression. It shouldn't bother him, not when he had a spy in his mind, but it did and the solitude was comforting. Besides, this morning he had to arrange the Quidditch try outs. :So the tenshi are one of those groups who don't interfere so long as you leave them alone?:

       :That is correct. They have no interest in this world, so long as this world is not a danger to them.:

       :That doesn't make sense,: Harry objected as he summoned some parchment and began to write out a plan for the try outs. :Didn't you say that you were going to ask a tenshi to...: he trailed off. :Well, you know.:

       The darkness around Harry seemed to quiver as the Shadows chuckled. :Individuals can be asked to do things,: they began explaining. :But for the tenshi to act as a whole, that would take a direct threat. They will watch you master, because you could be a direct threat to them but they will not pre-empt a strike. That goes against centuries of their history.:

       Harry nodded as he considered. It sounded fine but in practice was it that simple? :I'm not sure how I feel about that,: he said. :I don't like the thought of a threat over my head, especially one that is not going to go away.:

       :We know,: the Shadows sighed, :but for the moment there is nothing we can do. We are watching Ollivander and if the tenshi move, they will require his assistance so we will not be taken unaware again.:

       :Okay,: the black haired boy conceded, :though if they learn about my animagus form, would they ask me to join?:

       The Shadows were silent for a moment. :We don't think so, though... that is something we had not considered... With that form, you are more of a threat to them than any wizard could ever be. We will need to think on this,: the Shadow's said finally, their voice echoing with speculation.

       :So long as I can see them coming, that will be enough,: Harry said firmly. :On a different topic though, where are we with Narcissa, and what does her being a halfling do for us? Will her full blooded parent interfere?: He asked, bringing the topic back to something they could act upon.

       :It means we have to wait for her to show a weakness or an opening, then we crush her and her brat and if her parent objects, then we crush them as well.:

       Harry laughed aloud. "That I can do," he said easily, folding the finished plans and pulling out his Firebolt. "I've got time for a quick fly before breakfast, don't I?"

       :Yep,: the Shadows said happily. :We will watch Narcissa for a way past her, and we will watch Ollivander. If the tenshi think they can take you unaware, then they will find out exactly how much of a threat we are.:

===

       Hermione sat in the Common Room, notes from the first days of class spread around her. She suspected Harry was already awake, but Ron wouldn't be up for a while which was fine with her. She needed to think.

       Over summer she had told Ron that they needed to support Harry this year, no matter what... Which was all well and good but now she was beginning to see what 'no matter what' actually meant. She was a perceptive witch and she prided herself on being one of the most intelligent witches of their year level. She knew she had a penchant to rely on books a little too much, but she was a Muggle born, what else was she meant to do to find out information the Purebloods just thought was common place? And she knew that she was accused of blindly obeying authority, but again the authorities of the wizarding world were going to be what decided her future in this world and young she may be, but she knew they had long memories.

       And that was why that "no matter what" was weighing heavily on her.

       After seeing the way Harry handled himself during and after the train attack, she could see that his power had been developed over the summer, and his very quick explanation the other day about why he was taking every class just reinforced that. His results hadn't been announced but she knew they would be close to perfect. She'd been jealous for a moment before she remembered the pain that it cost for Harry to get his knowledge... She was still slightly jealous. Not enough to envy him but ... it was hard to know why but Hermione knew herself well enough to know that there was still a tiny bud of jealousy there. Who wouldn't feel that way? No matter how it had happened, Harry had all the knowledge of one of the greatest wizards of the time... Admittedly one of the greatest Dark Wizards but still it was a lot of knowledge.

       Bemused, Hermione shook her head. This was not what she wanted to think about.

       Sometime this year, they would be called upon to show that they would support Harry 'no matter what' and she wasn't entirely sure if she could do it.

       They'd been back at school for less than a week but already she could see that Harry was not quite the boy... man she remembered. That 'no matter what' may lead to places she wasn't sure she was ready to travel. Last year she would have said that Harry would support the Ministry... no, that wasn't right either... He would support the Order of the Phoenix completely... This year she wasn't so sure. He obviously knew what path he was going to follow, no matter what his friends decided. He'd made that clear enough with the way he'd spoken to Ron. It was not up to them to decide.

       Hermione sighed softly. She really needed more information. She wanted to follow Harry. He was her friend. He was one of her first friends... but she wasn't sure she could follow him without at least knowing which path he was on. Even if the destination was unknown, she wanted to know which path.

       She nodded to herself, feeling calmer as she worked out what was bothering her. That was it. Harry was her friend. She hoped he would always be her friend and she would accompany him on his path but she wanted to know which path it was that they travelled. If it meant going against the Ministry, if it meant going against authority then that was okay, so long as she knew that.

       :And if it means siding with the Dark Lord...?:

       Hermione froze. She held herself so still her hair quivered.

       That was not her voice.

       Cautiously she looked around, not moving her head as she flicked her eyes over everything in the common room. There were a few Gryffindors who had come down, but they were engrossed in what they were doing. They hadn't whispered to her. She looked upwards, there was no one stuck to the ceiling though the shadows there did seem darker than she remembered, but that was probably the morning light. And she looked down but again no one was there and she could not sense anyone behind her.

       So who had whispered the words?

       She'd told Harry in their second year that hearing voices was something that was not considered good either in Muggle or wizarding society. That applied to her as well. There was no one in range that she could see who could have whispered to her. What did that leave?

       Brown eyes closed as she considered. If there was no one she could see that left three options. The first was someone under an invisibility cloak, the second was a spell or charm or something that allowed the person to speak to her, like a patronus, and the third was that she really was hearing voices.

       None of the other students had invisibility cloaks, they were simply too expensive and Harry only had his at school because he had everything of his at school. She didn't think it was Harry or even Ron under the cloak and why would they whisper such a thing to her... 'siding with the Dark Lord...' Not funny as a joke.

       If it was a spell or a charm that wasn't the Patronus, she would have to research that. She'd always assumed that people used their patronus to convey messages to others because there was no other reliable charm and it guaranteed the message's authenticity. Though that did lead to a fourth option, perhaps the twins had invented something. Something that whispered would be up their alley, so to speak. She'd ask Ron about that later, and if necessary, make other inquiries while she researched for another charm which had similar affects because right at the moment, she wasn't prepared to accept she was hearing voices.

       No matter what they were telling her.

       _But what if it's true?_ That thought was her own, and it lingered.

===

       :Master,: the Shadows interrupted Harry.

       The Shadow Lord continued writing as if there was nothing amiss. :What is it?: He asked silently.

       :We think we may have screwed up,: they said softly.

       :That's unusual. What happened?: If they thought they had mucked up then it was potentially the end of the world given how carefully his servants played the game usually, but perhaps it was only something small and could be fixed easily.

       :We tried to give one of your friends a nudge.:

       Harry almost chuckled. He knew which friend they referred to already. :And she noticed you?: He asked, pre-empting any further explanation.

       :Yes,: they said morosely. :Though she is currently researching options as to what the 'voice that whispered to her' might be.:

       :She isn't the brightest witch of our generation for nothing,: Harry told the Shadows kindly.

       The Shadows gave off a feeling of mild annoyance. :We were noticing that,: they said somewhat snidely. Most wizards or witches just heard their voice and assumed it was their subconscious. That's how they had gotten away for so long with just pushing the players into position, with the players believing all the time that they were making their own decisions. It was rare that someone, Muggle or magical, was so in touch with themselves that they could immediately ascertain that it was not their subconscious. Obviously, over time some people got to that point, but by then most didn't care, they were too happy with the advice they were getting to give it up and usually came up with some other explanation to justify why they were listening to the Shadows.

       :It's all right,: Harry assured them after a moment. :When she eventually comes to me, I'll just laugh and say that I was waiting for them to notice you guys and then we will have formal introductions. That should be okay and we can pass it off as you merely playing, trying to be noticed. You've made the suggestion now to her anyway, and that's not going to go away, no matter whom or what suggested it. Even if she doesn't consciously think about it, I know Hermione. She'll remember and all unknowingly; she'll be looking for evidence. For now, unless she truly comes to the conclusion that it was something else, hold off talking to her. Though perhaps be a bit more attentive around me?:

       Darkness laughed, and Harry smiled at his servants. Even if it was only around his friends, who would eventually, hopefully be brought into his confidence, the Shadows were still masters of the game. Perhaps that was why victory was always theirs as there was no such thing as a battle that was not taken seriously.

       Harry would do well to remember that for this year.

===

       Ginny smiled at Harry as he paced on the Quidditch pitch. She'd been a little worried in the first few days of the year when he had been distant but as he had said in his letters he wanted to start again, so while it chafed, she was patient. It was the little things that were beginning to make a difference. For example, he was sitting with her at meals. Ron, Hermione and Neville also sat with them, but Harry made the point to either sit beside her or directly across from her.

       They were talking too. Not as boyfriend and girlfriend but as friends, which was nice and, Ginny conceded, the ability to talk as friends was more important for the long run than the ability to exchange sweet nothings. If she wanted Harry to stay with her or to accept her as well as the Dark Lord, then she had to be more than a bit of fluff he snogged when he felt like it. They had to _be_ friends and it was obvious to her that he wanted his friends to stay with him for the future. He wouldn't be here, wasting time in classes otherwise.

       As far as she could tell, Harry had been to most of his classes and even to a few special ones that he had picked up over the summer. When Ron had voiced a rather careful complaint, Harry had merely laughed and told Ron that he could come if he wanted but since the class was about bladed weapons with Snape, he _really_ didn't think the other man wanted to spend more time with the Potion Master. Ron had demanded why Harry was spending time with the man, and Harry had just reminded them that he had gotten all of Voldemort's knowledge and that included his sword and hand to hand techniques, so he was using them too. There had been a smirk on Harry's face as he'd said the rest, that Snape didn't like the Dark Lord's techniques because they were crude. Even Ron had laughed at that and had let Harry get to his extra classes.

       She was a bit nervous, standing in the crowd with the others who were trying out for the Quidditch team. Gryffindor _desperately_ needed to replace people since most of the team had graduated and she'd decided to try out for a place as a Chaser despite the fact that she usually played Seeker for her brothers. _No one_ was trying for Seeker since everyone knew that was Harry's spot. There were a few people trying for any position though, including Keeper. Last year's Keeper, the now Fourth Year Oswald Richards, had simply laughed welcoming the competition. He wanted the team to be the best team it could be, even if that meant he was only a reserve Keeper. Harry actually wanted the team to be bigger than it was in Woods' day and to have reserves so that the next Captain wasn't faced with replacing close to the entire team.

       "All right, _everyone_ ," Harry shouted and the small conversations faded. "Let's do this by the book. You all know Gryffindor needs to replace most of its team, but I'm also not Wood, I want to have a reserve team, so if you don't make the actual team do _not_ worry, You have a chance to make the reserves and _that_ will give you the practice you need. We are going to do the try outs in this order, Chasers, Keeper, Beaters and then Seeker and I don't care if you decide to show up for more than one position's try out.

       "Those trying out for Keeper, go over there," Harry pointed, indicating a section of the pitch near the goals. "Those trying out for Chasers, go over there." Once again Harry pointed, this time towards the middle of the pitch, though perhaps a bit towards the north-facing goals. "Beater try outs are over there." This time Harry indicated the middle of the pitch towards the south-facing goals. "Seeker try outs are there," Harry indicated the end of the pitch.

       "It will take some time to get through each try out so please be patient. Do some warm-up flying if you want, but don't get in the way of the other try outs."

       Harry paused for a moment. "One last thing," he said and his voice showed his seriousness. "If you make the team, I expect you to be _on_ the team. That means you will make time for the practices and you will give it everything you have. If everyone is clear on that, then let's begin."

       There was a small cheer as people began moving to where Harry had indicated. Ginny moved confidently with the others, but she was a bit surprised when Harry grabbed her arm gently and pulled her aside for a moment.

       "Try out for Seeker too," Harry whispered to her, so the others would not hear. "There might be times when I'm not here and I don't want us to forfeit. Now give me a hug and pretend I was just telling you to be careful." Harry smiled and quickly embraced her, something Ginny returned whole heartedly before they split and she continued to walk towards the gathered Chasers for the try out with a much lighter heart.

===

       Dumbledore set the last candle down to Fawkes' specification before he sat at his desk. Fawkes hopped about the office for a few moments, investigating the set of the candles and occasionally nudging one with his beak into a better position before he returned to his perch. The Phoenix had been insistent upon these candles and if Fawkes had of been human Dumbledore would have called him twitchy about this. Still the precautions were probably warranted. Dumbledore wasn't sure. The information he'd been able to find was sketchy at best, so he had deferred to his Phoenix's experience.

       :Have you got all your protections in place?: there came a whispered question and Dumbledore followed Fawkes' line of sight to spot the Shadow that was now on the ceiling. Fawkes' eyes burned with his natural fire but the way he was holding himself showed his dislike of the Shadows. :All those protections are not necessary, you know,: the Shadow continued. :I won't hurt you. Why would I hurt you?: it questioned. :I can only hurt you if my Master wants me to hurt you and by all of this are you suggesting that young _Harry_ wants to hurt you?: the Shadow laughed slightly as it flowed down the wall, darkening the light from the candles before it took up a position in front of Dumbledore's desk.

       "That only works if Mr. Potter _is_ your master," Xeoaph's voice echoed from the far side of the office.

       The Shadow showed no signs of movement or surprise at the Vampire's presence.

       :I know what you are trying to believe, Vampire, that we are creatures who will betray anyone for our desires but what you perceive about us and what is reality is not linked as closely as you would like.: The Shadow spat the words. :The one you call Harry Potter _is_ my Master and for the duration of his life will remain my absolute Master and I am bound by his will and his desires, even more than you can _ever_ be bound by your creator.:

       Xeoaph snarled and started forward.

       " _Enough_!" Dumbledore ordered sharply. "This is meant to be a discussion not a brawl, and I'm sure the both of you will find other opportunities to discuss the differences between Vampire and Shadows." While his tone held a note of amusement, it also indicated that they had better have that discussion _after_ the Dark Lord was deposed. As the Leader of Light, Albus was quite happy to have dark creatures fight amongst themselves.

       Xeoaph looked to the side, almost like a child prepared to fight further. "We can discuss the true nature of dark later," the Vampire agreed.

       :Of course,: the Shadow agreed almost serenely. :What did you want?:

       "To talk," the Headmaster said. "There is only myth, legend and conjecture about you. When we met in the Infirmary, I was surprised you could talk, but you informed me you could do so much more. I wish to explore that."

       :There is nothing to explore. Everything I do, everything I say, everything I feel is for the betterment of my Master and I will not act against that.:

       The Vampire snorted his disbelief but otherwise remained silent.

       The Ancient wizard was patient. He'd dealt with those who didn't really want to speak to him before and he wasn't sure at the moment if the Shadow wasn't willing to speak, or just didn't know the right words to tell the Headmaster what he wanted to know. Either way, Dumbledore expected to get answers tonight.

       "There may be nothing for you to explore," Albus said, projecting his kindly grandfather image for all he was worth. He didn't know if he would work on a Shadow, but it probably wouldn't hurt. "But there is much I do not understand and that is what I seek to clarify."

       Silently the Shadow applauded Dumbledore. The man was good. He sounded genuinely interested in merely expanding his knowledge without looking for ways of controlling them. He sounded like he wanted to help their Master but they had seen the proof that this was not the case; they would not be blinded by the wizard's petty explanations of 'for the greater good'. There was no greater good. There was only what made their Master happy. :I would suggest then that you ask. My understanding is instinctual, but I will attempt to explain the aspects of that which you do not understand.:

       Dumbledore sighed beneath his breath. It would appear the Shadow was going to try to be helpful without telling them anything. He may have to order Harry to enforce his will upon the Shadows so that they may understand and know truly who was in control.

       It was Xeoaph that answered though. "Why?" the Vampire demanded. "Why are you supposedly loyal to your master?"

       :Because Harry is our light. We exist, we always exist and we are the dark but that existence is hollow. It is only in the times when our Master is active do we truly _live_.:

       The Headmaster could see the Vampire twitching at the answer. To the Shadow the answer was probably reasonable but it missed out some key points, possibly deliberately or maybe simply because to the Shadow it was assumed information. "What makes young Mr. Potter your master?" Dumbledore asked. "Why not James Potter, why not Charles? Why young Harry Potter?"

       :Ah...: the Shadow sighed. :I understand now. You wish to know why so few of those who bear the power to be our Master, are actually declared and acknowledged as our Master?:

       Albus nodded, indicating with his eyes that Xeoaph should remain silent for the moment.

       :The concise answer is pain. The longer and more technical answer has to do with magical frequencies.:

       "Go on."

       :Each magical being and to some extent each bloodline bears magic of certain properties. For example, some bloodlines are capable of the animagus transformation, while others no matter how much they want or desire, they will never achieve that part of magic. Thus it is with us. The Potter bloodline bears the correct magical affinity for us. No they are _not_ dark, rather they are the opposite. Embedded in their magic is light and that is what attracts us.:

       "It attracts you but does not force you to call them Master," Xeoaph interrupted. "Why do you call Harry Potter 'Master'?" The Vampire asked the question, hoping to catch the Shadows in the most basic manner. If they could not explain why they called Harry Master, then there was very little reason to believe that the young wizard could control the Shadows and every reason to believe that the false darkness were just pretending to be subservient.

       :That is where the pain comes in,: the Shadow answered easily. :I do not mean physical pain. There are other forms of pain.:

       "You expect me to believe that?" Xeoaph snarled.

       :I have no control over what you believe,: the Shadow almost shouted in return.

       " _Enough_!" Dumbledore roared again, and then blinked into the silence. He could almost feel the ancient Vampire sizing him up but he held firm. "My esteemed Vampire friend does have a point," Albus continued, looking at the Shadow. "While the Potter bloodline may bear the magical affinity that attracts you, affinity does not bestow control, yet you have said that young Harry may and _does_ control you. I believe that is what Xeoaph is asking about."

       The Shadow seemed to condense and Fawkes tensed, though the Headmaster could almost read in the Phoenix's body language the tell-tale 'I told you so.' He resisted the urge to shake his head. He would get answers today, one way or another.

       :You are correct,: the Shadow said finally. :Affinity does not allow control. Nor does it explain why some of our numbers follow this Dark Lord. I will try to be more concise. We are creatures of Dark,: the Shadow continued, :And like all beings we need to eat, but we do not eat food such as you do, rather we eat our opposite, we eat light. Now I can see the question, why don't we just eat Mr. Potter and be done with it?: The Shadow seemed to look up at the Vampire who had opened his mouth to speak but had fallen silent as the explanation had continued. :We can't. Or rather we can but if we did, we would die. As we are creatures of Dark, Light is both food and poison to us. We both crave and somewhat fear it. And again all this tells you nothing about why Mr. Potter can control us.:

       The Shadow seemed to sigh. :Every now and then, in each bloodline, there comes one who seems stronger. To take my animagus example, it would be perhaps someone who can achieve that transformation very young and who seems so comfortable in their animal form that it's sometimes hard to know which was meant to be their natural form. Mr. Potter has everything about his bloodline and he is just that little bit stronger in his ability than his father or grandfather. He is our Master because within his magic is that spark that revitalises us. We have always existed. But we have not always been active, and we have not always been how you see me. Usually we are much more insubstantial. We exist, but we do not have the power to act, to speak or to be very much at all. The day Mr. Potter was born that began to change. The day he first used his magic, we awoke entirely. Between each of those who can be our Master, we observe, we advise and we sleep. We obey him because without Mr. Potter's regard, we are nothing.:

       "So why do some of you follow Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked quietly, aware that the Shadow had explained as best as it could.

       :I don't know though I can offer conjecture.:

       "Go on."

       :We have been asleep for a very long time.:

       "Since Godric?" Xeoaph asked, seeming a bit more at ease with the Shadow.

       :No, there have been a few Masters since Godric. You just have not known about them because they didn't do _anything_. I think that could be part of the reason some of us are obeying Voldemort, even though he isn't Mr. Potter. The one you call the Dark Lord is _doing_ something. He is prepared to act, to fight and to use us and no doubt he is prepared to pay _very_ well for our services.:

       "Yet with what you are saying, if the Dark Lord kills Harry Potter, then your existence, your will is gone," Xeoaph stated leaving the question implicit.

       :Yes,: the Shadow agreed. :They may have some way of keeping our Master safe. It's possible they will allow the Dark Lord to believe he has killed our Master, while they harbour him. That is something that we _could_ do... Or it's possible they intend to see that Voldemort succeeds in his seduction. Beyond that I don't know and the only way I can find out is to be contaminated by their madness... which is not something I wish to do, not even for my rightful Master.:

       Dumbledore nodded, feeling more at ease now with the Shadows. He could see that they were dangerous and would always be dangerous but in so far as the Shadow had explained, he could also see that they were tied to Harry. That would have to be tested of course. He wasn't about to take the Shadows unsubstantiated word for it, but it also meant that in the event of Harry's death, the Shadows would no longer remain an active player. Not that he wanted Harry dead. He just wanted to plan for every eventuality.

       Xeoaph also looked a little calmer. The Vampire would never accept the Shadows; the two would argue forever about which was the true dark, but Dumbledore could see that the elder Vampire was more tolerant now. The concept that the Shadows slept between masters probably appealed to him.

===

       :Well, that was interesting,: Harry said silently as he wrote his Charms essay.

       :Indeed,: the Shadows replied, flickering very gently in the soft light of the common room. It was late but, there were a few students about, mostly working on essays as Harry was.

       :Do you think they believed you?:

       :None of it is a lie.:

       :No, but some of it they will ask me,: Harry replied. He was letting his true self discuss things with the Shadows as Fawkes was currently too busy discussing what he had heard with Dumbledore and Xeoaph. The Phoenix had checked on him once or twice that evening, mostly to confirm his location and a few times to check that he was not 'listening in' as it were. As if Harry would be that obvious! :They _will_ misinterpret that sleeping bit.:

       The Shadows laughed. :Some of us do sleep though. And our interest in controlling and in knowing the whole picture is dramatically reduced when we have no Master. Why would we care about it, when there is no one to share it with?: They asked the question rhetorically.

       :So you want to know everything so that I can rule the world?:

       :We want to know everything so that nothing can hurt you, though even if you were like Laharan with no interest in anything beyond using our information to get into anyone's bed, you would still be our Master.:

       :Why?: Harry demanded, wanting the full answer to the question Dumbledore and Xeoaph thought they had had answered.

       :Because you know pain.:

       :No,: Harry put down his quill, focusing on the discussion, though to the other Gryffindors it probably just looked like he was deep in thought. :That explains _how_ but not why and the how is such that if Father had survived that night, then you would call him Master and I'd either be dead or his heir. I want to know _why_.:

       :Harry, you are our Master because without light there is no dark. We are not _evil_ , though so many assume us to be, we are _Dark_. We know that without light there we cannot exist, but it is also more than that. If the world was fully dark, it would most likely descend into _evil_ and that is not what we want. There has to be a balance, both between light and dark and between good and evil. You are a part of that balance.:

       :No,: Harry said again. :None of that explains why you almost seem compelled to obey me.:

       :We did not _have_ to obey you,: the Shadows finally admitted. :If we had ignored your calls then we could have continued as we were, but we did not lie, _you_ do revitalise us and you have from the moment of your birth. _You_ are our true Master because you have known pain but we would have still been around you if you didn't, just we would not be this active, this awake or this powerful. We would have eaten your radiant light, never your actual light. We obey you Harry, because when the time came to choose, we _chose_ to appear to you, we _chose_ to obey you and in doing so we are now compelled. We obey you, Harry, because you are so powerful, your light gives us the power to _do_ whatever we want. We want you happy with us because you also have the power to turn us away and send us back into the half-life we knew. So no, we did not have to obey you, though you could have compelled some things via your light. Because we chose though, you can now compel more. If you chose, you could make us into nothing more than light fearing little whipped spies for you, with no more thought than doing exactly what you tell us but the only reason you can do that is that we chose to answer your call initially. It has always been and _always will_ _be_ about choice but know this always, _you_ are our light, we are your darkness and we exist in balance.:

       :Thank you,: Harry said after several long moments of silence. He had never feared that the Shadows would turn on him, but he had not realised how completely they were bound to him. He had _known_ they were bound to him, that much he could feel but he had never known he could abuse them the way they implied. _Not_ that he would _ever_ do that and the knowledge now sickened him and he could feel snot gathering in the back of his throat.

       :Harry,: one of the Shadows said softly, and he felt a caress against his cheek. :One of the reasons we did chose to obey you is because we know you _won't_ do that.: The Shadow seemed to giggle. :You are a good man, never forget that. You might send us away, that's always a risk, but you won't deliberately hurt us. You see other witches and wizards and you see them as your fellows, not something you can use. You see other magical creatures and you see the good, the humanity in them. Even if they are your enemy, you still _respect_ them and try not to cause them pain. You do not attack or abuse, though you _will_ defend. You even see the Muggles, a group most wizards and witches view as a sub–species, but you don't You see them as human still and you see the almost unlimited potential they have. There is no reason why we wouldn't have chosen to obey you.:

       :But I love Lord Voldemort.:

       :Yes,: the Shadow's full voice said. :And you will love him even if he destroys the world, even if he kills everyone you hold dear because he had shown you the truth and he has been honest with you. But while you would still love him, you would not be happy and you would not be with him or willing to let him rule. You would try to stop him, to reason with him and to show him that the path of destruction is the path of ruination. Though Master, you also know, the man your blood resurrected is _not_ the same man who cast the killing curse against you. By taking your blood and the weak flesh of the traitor, he has altered somewhat and by taking in Xatarass, he altered further though all those changes could have been hidden. The day he admitted to himself that you were his leman, was the day the changes were forever embedded. He wants to please you as you want to please him, and in that desire lies the ability for your combined rule.:

       Harry closed his eyes, leaning into the Shadow's caress. :You don't lie, but you do exaggerate,: he said to them silently. :You mean _my_ rule.:

       The Shadows somehow felt chagrined but unrepentant. :Your rule yes, in so far as we obey you but you are a sensible Master. If Voldemort truly has a good idea about something, you aren't going to deny it, simply because it wasn't your idea. Each of you will temper the other but in the end, for us, _you_ are our Master. _Not_ him and he is well aware that should you ever desire it, we would use our power against him. He's already discussed this with us.:

       :I chose a sensible mate.:

       :You did. Sensible in realising your power, but sensible also in realising that change is what will allow him to survive.:

       Harry was silent for a while as he packed up his parchment and quills. After he put everything back in his bag he walked slowly up the stairs. :You give so much to me, yet I feel that I give you so little.:

       :You give us _everything_ , Master. It may seem inconsequential to you, but it is everything to us. The consumption of light allows us thought, allows us to suggest and manipulate. That is how we have existed for centuries and how we exist between Masters. _Your_ light though gives us definition, gives us intelligence and gives us the ability to act, to _do_ what we want. That is not something that is little or insubstantial. In return we give you our information and our service. It makes sense, Master. If we existed as your power allows us to, but without your guidance, why would we need such power, such abilities? We don't need to control humans, or wizards or witches, they cannot hurt us. We do so because they can hurt you and we use the abilities your power gives us to see that _your_ desires are met because we simply do not have desires. We have will, but it is you who provides us direction.:

       :All right,: Harry said finally, after he had changed and gotten into bed. He stared up at the canopy on his bed. The Shadows lined it so he could not see the red of the fabric. They were also wrapped around him, not tightly but gently, as if holding him. "I will give you direction," he whispered aloud closing his eyes as sleep began to creep up on him. "But you may not always like that direction."

       As their Master fell asleep, the Shadows watched indulgently. He was young, but he was their Master and he had yet to learn that to them, the direction mattered very little. For them, there was only one direction and that was towards their Master. Beyond that... nothing mattered.

 

 


	25. Controlled, Not Refined

Weapon   
Chapter 25 Controlled, Not Refined

===

       The Shadows watched their Master toss and turn. He was dreaming again. They had tried to soothe him out of his nightmare, but he was still remembering the past. They had suspected that their Master had recovered too quickly in the last year. They had hoped that he had recovered but apparently he hadn't. Xeoaph had given their Master peace when he had sealed the memories for Heprah, and that had made Harry seem to accept what had happened. He had cried, he had been angry, but he had recovered. But apparently he hadn't cried enough.

       They watched as tears tracked down his face and he made small sounds of distress, sounds the Shadows echoed. They did not like to see their Master in pain.

       :How will this end?: one of them asked.

       One of the other Shadows sighed. :Explosively,: it whispered. :He is still in pain from his childhood, still angry, and he needs to get that out of his system. Over the next weeks, or even months, our Master will get more angry. He will wonder why all that should have happened to him. He may even try to kill Millicent or Blaise and eventually he will be so angry that he will not be able to hold himself back. He will stain his wings and we will see if Voldemort's word is his bond where our Master is concerned.:

       Other Shadows sighed as they continued to watch over Harry. :In the long run, it's probably for the best,: one of them said regretfully.

       :In the long run, he will learn how to change their colour at will and so they will not be stained for long.:

       A deeper Shadow appeared then, one that usually spent its time in Voldemort's stronghold. It was an old Shadow, one that was wise and canny and knew how to show itself to the ancient Vampire in such a way that it was completely independent of the others. :We have grown soft as the years have gone on,: it said, :to be so concerned at seeing our Master in pain.:

       :His distress is our distress,: one of the others said.

       :And his release is our food,: the elder Shadow responded. :He will grow stronger from this pain, and we will grow stronger with him. The fact that his pain distresses us merely proves that we have chosen the right Master. If we could, we would destroy his pain and we will protect him, just as he will protect us.:

       :How are the prisoners?: another Shadow asked, resolutely turning away from Harry as he tossed and turned.

       :In pain,: the elder Shadow replied.

       :It is not enough. It will _never_ be enough.:

       :No, it won't,: the elder Shadow agreed before it sighed heavily. :Lamenting our inability to properly extract revenge is not today's problem, and it is a problem we should probably put aside since the statement is true; it will _never_ be enough.:

       :We will deal with them in time or as the issues arise,: another Shadow agreed. :For now the question of how we relate to our Master is of importance.:

       :He understands now why we need him but at the same time, his light is still too much for us.:

       :It has never been a problem in the past.:

       :Well, it is this time. How are we meant to work with a Master we can't feed from? And it's not that he's unwilling. There is more than enough food for us.:

       :Food that causes us _pain_ to try to eat it.:

       The elder Shadow settled down next to Harry, casting darkness where none should exist. The close proximity seemed to calm Harry slightly, though the Shadow was aware that nothing would really help until their Master struck out in his anger. After that he would heal and they would be there to help him. Until then, he would suffer through his memories, though the Shadows would do what they could to help him.

       :We are being foolish,: the elder Shadow said abruptly.

       : _What?_ : The others exclaimed.

       :We are being foolish,: the Shadow repeated. :We talk about balance, we talk about sharing, we say that our Master is our Light, yet here we are, afraid of that Light when it has done nothing to harm us, when our Master wields it for us and _wants_ us to eat. Thus we are being _fools!_

       :For us to exist, there _must be Light_. We cannot eat it all, yet that is what we are trying to do. All we need do is remember. We are the Dark, he is the Light. We do not need to eat it all; we need to flow with it. He told us _accept_ it without consuming it; let his Light flow with us to _complement_ our darkness...:

       :Do not fight our Master's Light, because it is our companion,: one of the other Shadows finished as it recalled the words.

       :So,: the elder Shadow said wisely. :We move with it, we flow with it, we cast shadows where shadows should fall, we let the light shine where it should and all the while we eat what we can and as our tolerance and ability grows, so will our appetite and so will our meal.:

       :Not if he stains his wings,: one of the Shadows objected.

       : _Even_ if he stains his wings,: another retorted. :I don't think it's possible for him to stain his wings and even if he did, I doubt they would be stained for long. If he does though, or even if he pretends, he will learn and mature; thus will his light mature and be all the better for us.:

       :He is the Light,: the elder Shadow agreed, :thus it is simply a matter of acceptance.:

       As Harry continued to toss and turn, his face strained with his memories and the nightmare that plagued him, the other Shadows settled around him, offering what comfort they could. To anyone watching it would appear that the dark haired young man was surrounded in a thick warm blanket. To Harry, it felt like someone was holding him, _not_ like the men had held him, but how Voldemort had held him, a warm soft embrace that would release him if he desired but would support him always. It couldn't stop his memories and it couldn't stop his anger or fear, but it did let him know, he was not alone. Never again would he be alone. He glowed with that knowledge, despite everything else and the Shadows ate the light greedily, allowing the stronger pieces to move around them, and through them, bending them back so that they helped to support their Master.

       One of the Shadows gave the impression of a smile. :How did we get such a good Master?: it asked rhetorically.

===

       Ragnok looked out at the floor of Gringotts. He was taking a very uncharacteristic break. His staff were going about their business efficiently, dealing with the witches and wizards and few other creatures who kept their gold in this facility. Gringotts was secure, and Gringotts was the only bank never to have had a successful robbery committed against them. That one a few years back failed, since there was nothing stolen. Over the years, the Goblins themselves had made sure of their reputation, discretely robbing other facilities when they dared to try to establish themselves.

       The magical world didn't need a choice about where to store their gold. It just led to confusion. And wizards and witches didn't need anything else to confuse them. Sometimes, in the dark privacy of their deepest chambers, the goblins wondered how exactly such an illogical and fractured group rose to be the dominant magical force. But that wasn't a question which was bothering Ragnok now. He was more concerned with the deductions that appeared on the tally sheets.

       They had been expecting some deductions. The Ministry, in an effort to show that it was considerate of non-humans had discretely informed Gringotts of the situation at Azkaban. From that, the Goblins had known that it was likely that at least some of the freed Death Eaters would be coming to access their vaults. No matter what they did, they would need funding. A generous estimate had been made of the likely deductions and that had been worked into the bank's operation. What they had not expected was that some of the ex-prisoners would withdraw the _entire_ balance from their accounts.

       It was completely illogical. They were on the run and anyone who captured them or took their possessions would and could claim that it belonged to them and no one would gainsay them. The goblins had looked, discretely of course, at the possibility of liberating the gold but the ex-prisoners had portkeyed to a neutral location before they had portkeyed again to somewhere untraceable. If it was some of the smaller vaults, that wouldn't have mattered. Gringotts made that amount of gold each minute but no, these were some of the premium vaults, the deep security ones and Ragnok knew exactly where the gold was going.

       The Dark Lord. Fighting a war was not cheap, even if you didn't have to pay your troops. The goblins had found that out themselves a few times in the past. The wizards were fools to believe that all of those treaties were the result of the 'desire for peace.' More like they were the desire for food. Not every goblin commander had grasped the finer points of war time economics. Their descendants did understand, which was why they were now the preeminent bank in the entire wizarding world. There were a few, _small_ competitors in other places. Ragnok believed it was the policy of Gringotts America to allow one or two localised institutions to continue to function for competition reasons or some such illogical wizard imposed necessity. The next time they rose, there would not be much rebellion.

       In the meantime though, Ragnok was honest enough with himself to admit that this particular Dark Lord did understand economics well, perhaps not as well as one of the goblin investors but well enough to survive. He understood why the Dark Lord needed the money, but what he did not like was the indent it would make and had made in Gringotts cash flows.

       There came a timid knock on his office door and he knew that it was one of the floor goblin bankers coming to tell him that another high security vault was to be emptied. Even if they were Death Eaters, and freed prisoners, Gringotts couldn't deny them access to their vaults, not without declaring their support from the wizarding Ministry. Right at the moment, Ragnok didn't really care if that was the cost. The price of emptying these vaults was already too high, and the payment, of actually watching the prisoners having to 'fit in' with their fellows, and therefore to at least be civil, while entertaining, was not enough.

       "Which one is it?" Ragnok asked, not bothering to open the door as he returned to his desk and the tally sheets.

       "L... L... LeStrange."

       Ragnok closed his eyes. To the eight hells with neutrality! They _needed_ that gold. Well, not so much the LeStrange gold but accumulated knick knacks of centuries. The LeStrange vault was a treasure trove for those who knew what to look for. It had weapons, charmed objects, gems and pearls that were the stuff of legend. While it was not the biggest account Gringotts held, it was one of the vaults with the most interesting contents and that had rated its security setting. In terms of wealth, other vaults such as the Potter or the Malfoy vaults dwarfed the LeStrange vault but in terms of one of a kind, mysterious and powerful objects, only the Black vault came close.

       "Stall Rodolphus as much as you can," Ragnok instructed. Even if they were escaped prisoners, they couldn't deny the LeStrange's the right to their vault, the rest of the illogical wizards would object, but they could make it difficult.

       "It's Bellatrix," the goblin underling said, through the door.

       "Then that's even simpler," Ragnok said, feeling happier. "She doesn't have the right to empty the LeStrange vault."

       "She says she does, Overseer."

       Ragnok sighed. "Where is she?" His underlings seemed to have decided that he needed to deal with this witch. He knew her by reputation but how difficult was it to tell her no? She might threaten but they had guards to deal with that situation.

       "She is in the private office."

       Ragnok could hear the note of relief and growled to himself. There would be punishments given to all the floor staff for this day's work. "Go back to your duties, I will see her," he said, ignoring the way his underling scurried away. Ragnok pulled a comb from one draw and quickly ran it through his hair. Goblins didn't give a hoot about appearance but wizards, even escaped ones, did. He put the comb away and pulled on his coat before summoning two discretely armed guards to accompany him to see Bellatrix LeStrange.

       He paused outside the office and looked in on the witch. She appeared relatively well dressed, though she was thin and her hair was messy. For a woman not long out of an extended stay in Azkaban, she was in very good condition. The Dark Lord was obviously not stinting on the restoratives for his followers. Like him she had two guards, though hers were fully robed and hooded and were standing very still in one corner. Ragnok snorted. They were probably new recruits who were too afraid to move and if anything happened he had full confidence in his guards.

       With a small shake of his head for full theatrical effect he swept into the office. "I am sorry, Madam LeStrange," he began, "I do not know why my underlings could not deal with such a simple matter."

       "Perhaps you need new underlings."

       "Perhaps," Ragnok echoed without feeling. "How may I help you today?" The phrase was not natural on his tongue.

       "I am here to claim the LeStrange vaults," the witch before him said airily, though there was the hint of steel in her tone.

       "As I'm sure was explained to you, Madam, you have every right to access the vaults, but you may not claim them."

       "I do."

       "Madam," Ragnok began, as if explaining to a small child. "The primary holder of the LeStrange vault is your husband, Rodolphus LeStrange. With the correct authorisations, his brother Rabastan may also claim the vault. As Rodolphus' wife, you have full access to them but they remain in his name."

       Bellatrix looked amused. "All of that is very correct, except for the fact that I am the holder of the vault now, for you see, my dearest husband and his brother did not survive the leaving of Azkaban."

       Ragnok sat back with a shock, lifting the parchment that dealt with the LeStrange vault in his small hands. The Ministry had not told them that. Though, he considered, the Ministry may not know that. They had reported that every person on Azkaban had been released and the wardens had been taken as well. They may not know that some of them had not survived. And if the LeStrange brothers had not survived then Bellatrix was the new holder of the vault... The only problem with that were Gringotts records. Each major account holder was required to give a small drop of blood on the account parchment. Goblin magic ensured that the blood glowed red while that wizard or witch was still alive. Both Rodolphus and Rebastan's blood spots were still red.

       "I'm afraid notification of their untimely demise had not yet reached us," Ragnok said with a degree of diplomacy.

       The witch smiled and it was not a pretty sight. "So, if I can show proof of my husband and brothers conditions, then the vault will transfer according to your records?"

       If she could show that, then the vault would be legitimately hers and Ragnok would be having a meeting with the spell casters to know _why_ the blood was still red. It may be that the Azkaban wards had interfered, but they never had in the past. "That would be acceptable."

       Bellatrix snapped her fingers and the two body guards who had been quietly standing in the corner moved. They seemed to uncoil and there was an icy blast of air in the office. Gooseflesh raised on Ragnok's arms but he showed no other reaction as her guards became impossibly tall. His own guards tensed and suddenly Ragnok was less sure of their ability as a wind seemed to rustle Bellatrix's guards' robes, bringing the stench of decay upon them all.

       He wasn't sure how they transformed or if an illusion had just been lifted but Ragnok was confronted by the bone deep chill of two Dementors who now hovered near the door. Each Dementor held a body and it took the goblin overseer a moment to determine that the bodies were Rodolphus and Rebastan LeStrange. They were badly emaciated, more so than he would have thought caused by Azkaban, especially given the relatively healthy picture presented by Bellatrix. Their heads lolled and they drooled but they were still breathing. It was a rather stupid thought, but at least the blood magic _was_ working as it was meant to.

       "Ah," Ragnok said, showing surprising delicacy for a goblin. "You are not the holder of the vault, because your husband is still alive," he heard himself say.

       "Alive, perhaps, but hardly in control of his facilities, nor will he ever be. In that situation, I become the head of the LeStrange House and as the Head of the House I control the vault," her voice was controlled and reasonable, more so than Ragnok would have thought given her reputation.

       "The Ministry will have to be told."

       Bellatrix smiled. "It matters little to me. I will go to my vault now," she rose, gesturing towards the Dementors. Once again Ragnok wasn't sure what they did but the bodies disappeared and the cold faded as the Dementors took on their more human appearance. It had to be an illusion.

       "You will need to fill out the paperwork."

       This time Bellatrix laughed and somehow the laugh was colder than the Dementors. "I don't think so," she said. Bellatrix took a few steps towards the door before she turned back towards Ragnok, and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I realise my Master has not given you any offers, nor made any overtures towards the goblins. Do not mistake this for indifference, or disinterest. On the contrary, he is very interested in the goblins however he is also aware that the goblins are now an institution within the magical world. He seeks not to disturb what many consider the status quo but make no mistake, little goblin, if you oppose him, we _will_ destroy you." Before the words even faded Bellatrix swept from the office, her body guard Dementors trailing after her. Another goblin would help her now that Ragnok had been forced to give his permission.

       In the office, Ragnok fell back into his chair. His own guards bowed themselves out, knowing that the overseer needed to think. They had their own reports to make. No matter how the Dementors had taken on passable human form, the goblin warriors had to know. For Ragnok though, there was not much to think on. Rather he was composing his letter to his superiors for losing so much gold but also his recommendation that the goblins immediately take up the offer of the Ministry. Bellatrix could say all she wanted that the Dark Lord considered them the status quo but he had heard in her voice the promise that she would be standing beside her lord _when_ they assaulted the Goblins, and she was looking forward to that day. The Dark Lord wasn't fighting them now, but it was simply a matter of time.

       They, the goblins had to be ready for that battle.

===

       Bellatrix waited impatiently as the goblin stepped up to her vault. She had thought of it as hers since the day she married Rodolphus and now it really was hers. The Dementors stood behind her, the perfect image of guards. They didn't fidget, they didn't fuss and they simply followed. She had been pleased to see them in her lord's service. As one of the inner circle, she had been present with Dolohov when her Lord gave them their briefings on the current state of affairs, though she could tell somehow that he was leaving something important out. She wasn't concerned because anyone with eyes could see that her Lord was always circumspect around the Vampire who had supposedly come to help him. Vampires didn't help wizards, they served their own interests. When the Vampire was not around, Bellatrix knew that her Lord would tell them the missing information.

       One thing he had made abundantly clear was that the Potter-childling was to be left for him. Capture was fine even encouraged, torture, maiming and killing were not. The glow in his eye as he said that had even made her shudder. He meant every word and it would be a bloody vengeance on anyone who forgot that.

       At length, the goblin stepped back from the vault door and she swept inside. She didn't care what most of it was. It didn't matter. There was only one object she cared about, a small cup, said to be Helga Hufflepuff's that her Lord had entrusted to her many years ago. When he had told her that he did not trust the goblins, she knew he wanted it back. He would use the gold of course, but he wanted this cup back and that's why several Death Eaters had been instructed to empty their vaults. He wanted no one to know he was particularly interested in the contents of the LeStrange vault.

       Bellatrix walked to the back of the vault and reverentially reached out to take the cup down from its resting place. It thrummed with power, just as she had remembered. Leaving it in here had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. It called to her, whispering her name comfortingly, almost lovingly. It comforted her and the memory of it had sustained her while she was in Azkaban. When she held it, it was almost as if her Lord was talking directly into her soul. She loved the feeling and it would be hard to give the cup back to him when he asked for it. She held it to her breast with one hand and with her other flicked her wand. The contents of the vault rose up and began rushing into a small bag her Lord had given her. He'd charmed it personally so it would be easily able to carry everything in this vault.

       She could feel the goblin's horror at her indiscriminate way of packing the vault contents. There were many valuable and irreplaceable items here that were rushing into the small bag and she resisted the urge to snort in derision. That would not be lady-like, the words from her mother echoed in her ear. Did the goblins think so little of her magic? It might _look_ indiscriminate and rushed but every single item was arranging itself neatly within her bag. Her Lord would no doubt have a passing interest in some of the other items and if she could somehow get into the Black vault... She knew her family vault contained objects that her Lord would _really_ be able to use, but she had heard that Sirius was free and despite _his_ mother's dislike of him, she had not disowned him formally from the family. Sirius Black was the current Head of the House of Black and even if he died the title would not yet pass to her.

       As the last of vault's contents began to enter the bag, Bellatrix almost regretfully moved the cup into a pocket of her robe. By moving to pick out the cup, the goblins already knew that she had been interested in it, but it would do no good for them to know how delicately, how gently and reverently she treated it. They could see that it was Hufflepuff's cup, if anything she should revile it as the possession of a lesser being.

       She cast her eyes around the now empty vault, slipping her wand into its holster on her arm before reaching into the bag. She removed one galleon and summoned to her an odd shaped item that was of goblin design, a trap of ages. Carefully she placed the galleon on the floor of the vault and then put the trap over it. From another small pocket, she pulled a tiny vial that her Lord had given her and with extreme care she measured a single drop of it on to the top of the trap. It sizzled for an instant before a little magical shield contained the drop and pulled it down into the body of the trap. Bellatrix stood then and walked out of the vault. As she rose she heard the goblin at the door gasp when he saw what she had done. He recognised it.

       "You can move the contents of this vault if you wish," she said with a fake little smile. She'd have gladly just killed all the goblins but her master had said it was not time. He had plans, and Bellatrix always enjoyed his plans. It would be fun to see the goblins squirm. She hadn't really thought about them much in the past. They were goblins, they served wizards as the keepers of Gringotts. There was nothing much left to think about, but her Master had and her Master saw what they were trying to hide. He already knew their plans and he had his counter plans ready already. They could survive for now, but as soon as the Ministry was bowed to her Lord's will, they were on borrowed time.

       Bellatrix almost wished she had left a clock.

===

       Gideon stood to the side. He wasn't a pack leader but there were more than a few werewolves here who weren't. It appeared most of the pack leaders had brought at least one or two members of their packs with them. Remus was unique in that he was alone. The Death Eater werewolf though could already see the factions forming. Around Fenrir Greyback most of those who wanted to side with the Dark Lord had gathered. It wasn't quite as many as Gideon would have thought. He assumed the few who had greeted Remus wanted to follow the Ministry, but there were a fair number of leaders who were just standing around and Gideon took that to mean they wanted to be neutral. It was hard to tell since there was that fourth offer.

       He knew he should go see Fenrir to report that he was safe but Gideon was still rather conflicted. Remus had been completely honourable with him. The Shadow representative, for all that he had threatened, had been rough but he had also done exactly what he said he would. And with Remus reporting that the spell had worked exactly as hoped, he was re-thinking his decision to follow the Dark Lord. There _were_ alternatives out there; he had just not seen them. Or maybe he hadn't wanted to see them.

       It didn't matter now, but it was something he would have to consider in the future. Gideon looked around; he wasn't sure when or even how the meeting would start. So far, all the pack leaders had stood around and talked, moving between each other with no real sense of purpose. He wondered who would call the meeting to order.

       He was kept wondering for a time until one of the pack leaders finally seemed to tire of the talk and coughed ostentatiously. "All right," the Pack Leader said. Gideon didn't know which one it was. but they seemed confident. "We called this meeting because we have to decide who to follow."

       "That's _easy_ ," Fenrir growled. "There is only one who has been loyal to us."

       Gideon was surprised when he felt the need to speak. But he held his tongue. Now that the meeting had started, only pack leaders could speak and this was _not_ the time to challenge one for the right to be heard. Thankfully Remus was not cowed by Fenrir.

       "Loyal? Has age finally done your mind in?"

       "More like youth does not let you see the truth, pup," Greyback replied.

       "There are times when I'm grateful that werewolves don't have the genetic loyalty that vampires do. Thankfully I'm not required to follow you."

       "That's probably because you are too blinded by that idiot, Dumbledore."

       Remus chuckled. His relaxed attitude was not lost on the other pack leaders. They were impressed and already Gideon could see that there was a shift towards Remus. "I'm more fascinated with the fourth offer," Remus said easily.

       "Well, well, well, how easily you change your tune," Fenrir said.

       "I have always wanted what is best for us," Remus countered. "Besides, I don't think I'm the only one interested in that offer."

       "You aren't," another of the pack leaders spoke. "It is a most generous offer."

       "I think we are all agreed that the Ministry and neutrality are not options this time."

       "The Ministry has sided with the _vampires_ ," Fenrir spat. "And they flaunted the capture of one of our own."

       "The fact that he's a Death Eater didn't help," the counter came from a voice among the pack leaders. This was not what Gideon had expected. He could feel the tension from all the pack leaders, despite the fact they were still talking. They wanted to fight each other. Some were undecided about which path they wanted to follow, though there did seem to be a consensus that the Ministry was not an option. The rest seemed split between the three other choices.

       "Yet it was representative of the fourth option who freed our captured brother."

       "My Lord has said nothing," Fenrir declared.

       "Probably because the freed werewolf has been with me," Remus countered gesturing.

       Gideon gulped as he felt most of the pack leaders turn towards him. In a moment of bravado he saluted them. There really wasn't anything else he could do. Greyback snarled. "Why didn't you report to our Lord?"

       "Because the Shadows were not willing to confirm they helped rescue me until I accompanied Lupin here," Gideon shrugged. "And you know as well as I do that our Lord will not accept me back until that time. I will report back to him after this meeting." He added soothingly. While he may have doubts about following the Dark Lord, he had made his choice and he was obligated to keep that choice, for now.

       "Well," one of the older pack leaders said. "That does seem to be a rather good recommendation for the new offer. Or did they ask for something in return?" The question was posed to Remus.

       Remus shook his head. "They only asked that I mention it."

       "Subtle," the other werewolf said.

       "Subtle or not, they have no power!" Voldemort's werewolf objected.

       "I think they have more than you want to admit, Fenrir," the older pack leader objected. "We might as well approach this question with some degree of logic," the grey haired man continued, speaking over the reply Fenrir made. The look of the other pack leaders was approving and Greyback was astute enough in reading his fellows to fall silent, for now. "I believe we have four choices; the Ministry, the Dark Lord, this new offer, and neutrality. I take it we are all agreed that we must make a decision and that Ministry is not a viable option at this time?" The werewolf looked around expectantly.

       The rest of the pack leaders nodded. The Ministry was not a viable option and for the foreseeable future, they were not going to be an option. Most expected Remus to look downcast, but he was as firm as the others in his agreement. Gideon hid a smile. The pack leaders had also agreed that they had to make a decision, which meant that his capture had done at least one thing for his Lord. He'd have to emphasise that when he saw the Serpent Lord again. As he looked around he tried to put names to the faces of the pack leaders. It was difficult since most he'd only heard of as whispers or by their werewolf monikers. The names "Sawtooth' or 'Scrubtail' were not exactly helpful in trying to identify who was who in human form.

       "Fenrir, what will the Dark Lord offer for our services?" the older werewolf asked and Gideon suddenly realised the speaker was Longtooth Silvers, one of the oldest and most respected pack leaders. It was rumoured that _he_ was the one who had bitten Greyback as a child, but neither of them had confirmed that.

       "My Lord offers what he has always offered, a place to serve and to be accepted," Fenrir replied, making it seem like a great and grand offer.

       "Nothing else? And any conditions?" The question came from a youngish pack leader who stepped up to stand with Longtooth.

       "What else do you need, Shebane?" Greyback snapped. "My service to my Lord has helped the packs and has _never_ caused me to be conflicted in loyalty."

       " _You_ might be fine with biting little children, Fenrir," Shebane spat back. "The rest of us don't share your beliefs. He will want us to fight, won't he?"

       "He will want us to _serve_ ," Fenrir snarled. "And there has never been a problem with serving."

       Silently, Gideon shook his head. He really hoped the Serpent Lord wasn't relying on Fenrir to be his sole representative because he was doing a fine job of alienating the rest of the packs. It was well known that Greyback revelled in his werewolf ability, but his indiscriminate nature was not shared by them all.

       Longtooth growled, cutting through the budding argument before they could get physical. "We will serve if that is what we decide," he said. "We are all aware of what neutrality brings," he continued. "What is this other offering us?"

       Gideon expected Remus to respond, but it was one of the other pack leaders who spoke. "A couple of us have spoken to them. Their offer has been the same each time," a pack leader with long brown hair stepped forward. "Firstly, for those who want it, wolfsbane potion made by a Potion Master, though they never said which one, just that their credentials would be available when an agreement is made. Financial help should we need it and a change in the Ministry Laws regarding us."

       "Talon, did they put a time frame on the law changes?" Longtooth asked.

       Talon shook his head. "No, but they did offer a guarantee; a blood oath."

       That brought a murmur from the gathered pack leaders. "A blood oath?" The question was whispered almost with awe.

       "What were the stipulations?" Longtooth asked quietly. He was impressed but he was controlled enough not to show it.

       "Wait," Talon said, shaking his hair slightly. "There was another part of the offer. They also offered a spell, one that when supposedly cast by a strong enough wizard, on a werewolf with a strong enough desire, would mean that the werewolf retains their human mind during transformation. It's like wolfsbane potion but just the spell."

       "It only works about five percent of the time," Remus broke in. "I researched it," he added. "It does work, I had them cast it on me, but it's _not_ reliable, which they _did_ tell me in advance."

       Longtooth and the other pack leaders nodded. "What were the stipulations?" The question was repeated.

       "Our services in one battle, that they specify, a public declaration of neutrality, but they were also willing to concede that some of us would continue to serve either the Dark Lord or the Ministry. and in the case of the blood oath, they require that we discuss any problems with them, _before_ we call that in."

       Longtooth raised an eyebrow. He had heard the offer, but he hadn't gone to talk with the representative, something he was regretting now. "There was no stipulation on the amount of financial aid?"

       The pack leaders who had spoken to the representative looked at each other. No one had thought to ask. "I think they might be offended if we asked for the Malfoy vault in value," Remus said with a chuckle. "But if we have a valid need, then it will be met."

       "It's almost too good to be true," a pack leader that Gideon recognised as Razorclaw said.

       "It _is_ too good to be true," Fenrir snarled.

       "No," Remus replied, his voice like ice. "I spoke with the representative myself. The offer _is_ genuine and they _do_ have the power to grant what they have offered."

       "Who are they, then? Because _no one_ with that much power just appears from nowhere." It was a logical enough statement for Fenrir to make.

       "No one that you know of," Remus retorted almost happily but he was aware of the doubt. The Shadow path was completely new.

       "So enlighten me."

       "Why? So your Lord can remove them? I think that's one of the reasons they have been so circumspect. I'd guess that they do not want to be known yet."

       "So why be so generous to us?" Longtooth wasn't the only one who wanted to know. _No one_ was generous to the werewolves, not without there being a very large catch. And so far none of them could see any catch.

       Gideon was watching Remus as this part of the conversation unfolded. He knew Lupin knew exactly _who_ was offering the werewolves this, but it seemed that the man did not wish to speak of it. Gideon could also see that many of the pack leaders were interested in the offer, but they were reluctant as they were not sure about plunging into the unknown. They didn't necessarily want to follow the Dark Lord, but neutrality or the Ministry weren't options to them.

       "I think," Gideon heard himself say, "I think they already have an agreement with the Dark Lord."

       "What makes you say that?" Longtooth waved off those who were about to object.

       "I stayed with the man who rescued me for a few days and we didn't talk much, but just from a few things he said... it seemed to me that he knew the Dark Lord well. I was rescued by _one_ wizard, one wizard who went through the Aurors as if they were nothing. He didn't fight, he avoided them _all_ , in their _Headquarters_. I know my Lord could do something similar, but I have never seen anything like it! And no Greyback, he wasn't a Death Eater," Gideon added the last for his Lord's benefit, sure the question would come at him anyway. Fenrir would probably see their Lord before him, so there was no point in antagonising the other Death Eater unnecessarily. "I also believe they are being generous with us now, because they wish to form a longer term alliance," Gideon added softly.

       "That would explain it," Longtooth murmured, looking back towards his fellow pack leaders before he laughed. "It's stupid asking us to vote; we are only going to come to a decision one way."

       "I'm so glad you said that," Fenrir smiled.

       "Though I am curious," Longtooth added, "how a vote would go. I think we are split, though," he said easily.

       "Aye, we are," Gideon recognised Blackpelt by his jet black hair. He was the werewolf known for the best financial counting of the packs. "I've counted and the only way to change the count is if Remus wants to tell us _who_ is making us that offer."

       "I only _think_ I know," Remus said, "And I would prefer not to break their confidence in the event that I'm right."

       "That means we are down to the old-fashioned way, one leader over all the packs of the Isles because as the Ministry is agreed not to be an option, I don't think we really want to fall into neutrality."

       "Enough talk," Greyback growled. "All that remains is for those who have the guts to fight to stand up and for the rest of the pretend leaders to leave."

       "I nominate," Shebane said and his cry was quickly backed by another of his pack. Other pack leaders nominated for the fight and Greyback smiled, his teeth catching on his lips. They would fight in the traditional way, transformed werewolf to werewolf on the nights of the full moon. Gideon could see that Fenrir was thinking that would give him the advantage. Not many of the other pack leaders bothered to train their werewolf forms. Gideon realised that Greyback was easily the strongest fighter which was no doubt the Dark Lord's plan to gain the werewolf packs. And for Fenrir, he would enjoy seeing Remus bow to him though Gideon had noticed that Lupin had also been nominated and there was a small smile on his face. Suddenly Gideon knew that Greyback wouldn't have it all his way and perhaps it would be the older werewolf who bowed to his creation.

===

       Sirius was in a black mood. Pun and every other bad joke he could think of intended. He had lost patience with his "mission" weeks back. He'd persisted at it because every night when he asked Fawkes what exactly he was looking for, the phoenix had replied that what he was doing was necessary. _How_ it was necessary had never been explained.

       He'd also persisted at it because it meant he could run errands for the Shadows with no one the wiser, but even that benefit was wearing thin. So far, all he had encountered had been a group of centaurs who had insisted that they could defend their territory, a mob of outcast goblins who had almost gleefully agreed to help, _if_ they were presented with the heads of the current leaders of Gringotts bank and he'd heard some rumours that there was a Veela colony nearby. Rumours he could, of course, _not_ confirm.

       What he was doing was a complete waste of time. Did Dumbledore and Fawkes really believe there were groups of magical creatures with enough presence to tip the battle just living out in the wild? There might be a few colonies of various types, but they just did not wish to be found. Not by him, not by anyone. There were no other major groups left to recruit. Fairies were merely decorative and elves and all other magical creatures with power were just the twisted dreams of Muggles who had seen a little too much of what they shouldn't and had spun everything out of those sightings. If he went about this logically then he could account for almost every major magical being and group and know that there just were _none_ left to recruit.

       The Vampires had already thrown their lot in with the Ministry. The Giants were being intractable. The Goblins would probably side with the Ministry but even if they didn't, Sirius wasn't talking to them. The Veela had representatives in Diagon Alley, so it was far easier to talk to them there. The Merfolk were contactable at Hogwarts, as were the Centaurs. Acromantulas he didn't even want to talk about, but they _definitely_ fell to Hagrid to speak to. Werewolves could be spoken to over a nice cup of tea, without having to traipse through the wilderness. Unicorns had stopped paying _him_ any attention since Third Year. Sphinxes were not native to the Isles and even if they were, they were too... too intractable and sphinx-y to rely on. Griffons, Hippogriffs, Thestrals and other creatures like that were not even sentient. They would serve pretty much whoever fed them. Serpents already belonged to the Dark Lord and the Hairy MacBoons had lost whatever semblance of humanity they had centuries ago. A battle between Light and Dark forces was of little interest to them.

       And all of that faded into complete and utter inconsequence with the knowledge that the Express had been attacked and that Azkaban had been emptied. _He should be there!_

       :You should, but you aren't,: the Shadows kindly agreed with him. :Since we can't really help you recruit things that don't exist, would you like to do something else?:

       :Such as?: Sirius asked somewhat suspiciously. He might enjoy the little tasks they gave him, but right at the moment he was fed up with everything.

       The Shadows chuckled. :We thought it might be nice if you met him.:

       :Who?:

       :Voldemort.:

       :Oh.: Sirius wasn't sure what he thought about that. He knew Harry was sure of the Dark Lord's love but he was hard pressed to believe it. :I'm not sure there is much I could see,: Sirius said sensibly.

       :You'll see it in his eyes but are you sure you want to?:

       Sirius looked up at the stars for a moment and took a deep breath. The stars were bright out in the wilderness and he remembered his Astronomy class. The stars were never this bright on the top of that tower. At least that was one good thing. Eventually he sighed. :Yes, I think I do want to know.:

       :All right,: the Shadows replied easily. :We'll let you know when it's safe to visit.: Sirius could almost hear a smile in their voice. :For now though, why don't you reconsider this mission? Use your logic to shorten it, now that you've established to Dumbledore that there really is no one hiding out hoping to be ignored.:

       "If I could do that, I'd be out of here already!" Sirius objected.

       :You haven't really thought about it properly yet,: the Shadows countered. :Think about it carefully. Go through _every_ group you know of.:

       " _Argh_!" the canine animagus growled. They obviously knew _something_ yet they also seemed determined not to tell him.

       :Of course we know something. We try to know everything,: they laughed. :Just think about it again, carefully, and you will see what we mean. Though it will still take a while to get back there.:

       Sirius growled, the sound more reminiscent of something that his animagus form would produce. He really had no choice but to humour the Shadows in this. They were worse than Remus was when he had forgotten the answer to some test question. "All right," he said trying to remember his classes and the lists of magical creatures he had to memorise for school. Lists he'd promptly forgotten as useless. He tried to focus on the more dangerous creatures. "Alphabetically then... Acromantula's are definitely not something I want to run in to. Basilisk's will follow the serpent lord. Centaurs don't want to be involved. Chimaera's are Greek and hate the cold and also don't speak and do not treat with wizards, except to eat them. Demiguise aren't helpful and Drag..." Sirius trailed off, his eyes wide.

       "Dragons!" He shouted! Dragons were big, strong and magically resistant. There were enough of them that if you herded them into battle they could make a difference without getting slaughtered. They were also kept in groups under the control of the various Ministries because they were so _expensive_! He didn't know how to control them but Sirius didn't doubt for a moment that the Dragon Handlers would have a better idea. "How could I be so stupid?" he asked aloud.

       The Shadows didn't reply, but he definitely got the impression of amusement from them. He could tell though that he had worked out what they were thinking about.

       "Okay, so I have to find this group of Veela, then I'm off to find and talk to the dragon handlers, and somehow convince them that their charges can change the outcome of this war."

       :Something like that.:

       "I still want to be there," Sirius sighed as his small jolt of elation faded. He didn't care what he found here, he wanted to be with Harry and Remus.

       :We know, and they know, but Harry knows that for the moment humouring Dumbledore is the best option, and Remus is a tad busy with the werewolves, and will be for the next several moons.:

       "What's happened?" Alarm coloured his tone.

       :Nothing,: the Shadows said. :Our offer was taken well but as we suspected, because we are unknown it was not enough to get them to follow us. But it was enough to cause a split in their ranks. As a result, they will fight now to determine who is the Supreme Pack Leader of the Isles and allow _them_ to make the decision on which path the werewolves walk. In the end, it won't make a difference; they will follow either the Dark Lord or us since the Ministry has sided with the Vampires.:

       Sirius knew Remus could fight. Remus didn't show it much but he was a good swordsman and fairly decent hand to hand. :Silly!: the Shadows laughed at his thoughts. :They aren't going to fight as humans. The battles will take place on the full moon and before you worry, that gives Remus far more advantage than the rest know.: The Shadows seemed to grin.

       The Head of the House of Black was silent as he tried to determine what advantage Remus had. He was as comfortable with his werewolf form as any of them got, excepting perhaps Fenrir but that wasn't it... Wait... "That spell?"

       :Exactly. We will offer it to all of them of course, but Fenrir abhors the very idea of it and that we believe will be his undoing.:

       Sirius grinned rather ferally. They'd never hunted down Fenrir because the war had taken up all their time once they graduated, but they _had_ given it a lot of thought. It would be a nice thing if Remus was now in a position to fight Greyback and when he won, for Fenrir to have to obey him.

       That would definitely be a very nice side of justice.

       :We rather thought you might like it,: the Shadows chuckled with him. There was silence for a moment. :Do you feel a bit better now?: they asked.

       Sirius started at the question, but he did feel a bit better now. He was still frustrated with his Order appointed task and still thought it bordered on being a useless waste of _his_ time but if Harry and Remus understood and if he could perhaps get the Dragons onside, then he did feel just a bit better.

===

       Voldemort was surprised when the Shadows gathered before him. Kisha was with him and they usually avoided the elder vampire.

       :We need something,: there was none of their usual banter when they hissed the demand.

       The elder vampire raised one delicate eyebrow, somewhat surprised at the Shadows boldness. She knew they had been avoiding her. For a group with an agreement with the Dark Lord they had been scarce, but she had supposed it was part of the bargain that they only appeared when needed. Or now perhaps they only appeared when they wanted something.

       "What do you need?" Voldemort asked. The Shadows were playing towards the vampire's presumption of what their deal was. She thought he had to pay for everything, so they were kindly providing almost trivial tasks to prove that their deal was based on payments.

       :A set of journals, enchanted such that one mirrors the other. The mirror will have to be able to read through protection charms.:

       "I can do that," the Dark Lord said. "But what will you do for me?" The question was purely to satisfy the vampire.

       :The journal will pay for itself.:

       "That remains to be seen. My next foray, two of you act as my eyes and ears and you will have your journal."

       Kisha laughed. "Surely you have wizards who can make mirrored journals?" she asked the Shadows.

       If the Shadows had of been human, they would have been giving the vampire a very dirty look. :Of course we do, but we want these ones to be undetectable and that requires more power.:

       "Your Master could do it," she muttered.

       :He could, if we want to spend the rest of eternity in servitude,: the Shadows retorted before they turned their attention back to the Dark Lord. :All right, we will be your eyes and ears next foray.:

       "Then you will have your journal," the Serpent Lord agreed, feeling the slight smugness from both the Shadows and the vampire. He laughed to himself. In the game they were playing there could only be one winner, but the play was highly entertaining.

 

 


	26. Everyone Wants to Talk

Weapon   
Chapter 26 Everyone Wants to Talk

===

       Harry looked down at The Prophet and the Quibbler. He'd taken out a subscription in both to try to keep abreast of what the wizarding world thought. He didn't _care_ what they thought, the outcome was inevitable, but it was easier to ride the wave of prejudice and opinion when you knew what it was.

       Three weeks.

       The Ministry had sat on the news about Azkaban for _three weeks!_ And now the wizarding world knew and already Harry could feel the panic rising in the students. As if the released prisoners of Azkaban had much interest in a bunch of kids. Though he would give the Prophet a bit of credit, they were good at manipulating the fears of the community. The Quibbler was surprisingly more down to earth, and they had actually broken the news first. Luna had been smug about that when the break out had been reported in the Quibbler yesterday and only today was the Prophet catching up.

       The Quibbler had actually been helpful about the break out and had given advice and tips on what to do if you saw any of the prisoners and the Dementors. The Prophet was just screaming that they had broken out. There was nothing useful in the trash that they were writing, though because they were the more favoured Ministry rag they did have lists of the prisoners and photos. Harry would have to have a word with Luna to know why The Quibbler didn't, though as he looked through the photos, focusing on those he knew to be in his beloved's inner circle, he cast his mind back to the Order of the Phoenix meeting he had gone to three days ago now.

       From the way the other Order Members were acting, Harry had assumed that the meeting was fairly routine, though Molly Weasley had been exuberant in her greetings. It had remained routine until Snape had been asked to give his report. While Harry didn't know all the details about Azkaban, his Shadows had at least told him it had happened. The Order was shocked, and that shock very quickly turned into panic before Dumbledore had re-asserted his control. Some members of the Order had known. Kingsley had just sat quietly, but he had obviously been instructed not to tell anyone and Harry had wondered of the sense in that. In this war, knowledge was power and hording knowledge would just get people killed.

       Snape had gone on to give a list of who had survived and Harry had noticed Kingsley making notes. The Ministry had obviously known who was on Azkaban, but they hadn't known who died. He was a bit surprised himself to hear of the fate of the medium term prisoners. He'd have to find out what they had done to annoy his beloved that much. As Snape had finished his report on Azkaban, Harry's servants had begun chuckling. It was a slow thing, a small display of mirth that became full blown laughter and Harry had felt their happiness. He really couldn't tell what they were so happy about though and the Shadows were in no condition to answer him as Snape continued on to report that the Dark Lord was asking all his forces a single question. Snape had not yet been asked and he had no idea what the question was since the Death Eaters who did know simply said it was worth their lives to speak of it...just as it was worth their lives if they answered incorrectly.

       As he flicked green eyes over the paper now, he was beginning to see what his servants had been so happy about. At that thought, the Shadows started laughing again and Harry did his best to block them out. For what was such a little thing they seemed exorbitantly happy.

       After they had discussed Azkaban, the meeting had moved on. There really wasn't much they could discuss about Azkaban anyway. It had already happened. What they did spend some time on was how to kill Dementors, and Harry was horrified at what it took to kill one. If they were that hard to kill, he wondered how it was that they hadn't just taken over! There _had_ to be an easier way that did not involve his servants eating them all and Harry had made a mental note to ask Hermione to think about it. He didn't really want to kill them all but he had to appear as if he was doing something. The be all and end all of Azkaban was that the Death Eaters were free and recovering which was why the Dark Lord was being so quiet. The non-Death Eaters were either becoming Death Eaters or dying, and the Dementors were so firmly on Voldemort's side that nothing would move them.

       Kingsley had given a report then and he had included Harry in his discussion. That had been something Harry was grateful for. They all said he was going to be the one to fight but when the time came, no matter that he was supposedly a full member, they seemed reluctant to tell him anything. At least the Ministry had worked out what they wanted to do with him and though Kingsley couldn't officially tell him, he had indicated that Harry would be getting some letters in the near future which would outline the Ministry's plans.

       Dumbledore had seemed happy enough with that. He probably already knew what the plans were but had felt it best not to tell Harry. He had suppressed a sigh then and he suppressed one now. The more they tried to hide information from him, the harder they made it on themselves. It really was pathetic to think that if Dumbledore had of been upfront and open at the beginning then the outcome of the Dark Lord's courting probably would have been different. They had no one to blame but themselves. You did not rely on someone but never tell them anything.

       No one had said anything about Sirius. No one had even asked. Harry had been listening for news of his Godfather but it seemed everyone was content with pretending he didn't exist. If the Shadows didn't exist then he wouldn't have known _anything_.

       "Harry!" Hermione broke into his thoughts.

       "Hmm?"

       "Did you know about this?" she whispered pointing towards the paper.

       Harry shook his head. "I'm blocking him," he replied. "One thing I _could_ use was his Occulemcy skills, and apparently I'm a bit too good at it."

       "Better to block him completely than have him learn things," Hermione said with complete faith.

       "It wasn't that bad." He could barely remember what it had been like. It had been more than a year since he had felt pain from feeling the Dark Lord's thoughts.

       Hermione just gave him a look. "It was that bad," she said simply, "You didn't have to watch you in pain. We did."

       "All right, perhaps it was bad, but it was useful."

       At that, Harry could see she conceded a little in the way she held her head and he remembered his mental note. "Actually, there's something I want to ask you."

       "Oh?"

       "It's about Dementors. I found out how to kill them and it's difficult..."

       Harry would have said more but McGonagall chose that moment to come down the aisle between the tables to stand beside him. "Mr. Potter, the Headmaster would like to see you," she announced quietly but the entire Hall heard.

       "Yes, Professor," Harry said smiling. This probably meant the Ministry was finally up to speaking to him. He grabbed another piece of toast and bacon and with a smile towards his friends he got up and trotted out of the Great Hall. If the Ministry had finally gotten their act together, then he didn't want to be late.

===

       Harry made his way to the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle swung out of his way automatically now and he patted it almost fondly. As he rode the steps up, he stretched his senses. Dumbledore was there, as was Kingsley and a man and a woman he didn't recognise. Xeoaph wasn't there and he couldn't sense any other Vampires either. It would be nice not to deal with them.

       He knocked and before he lowered his hand, Albus had bid him enter. "You wanted to see me?"

       "Yes Harry, come in, come in," Dumbledore would have ushered him to a chair if he wasn't sitting behind his desk. The man and woman whom Harry didn't recognise were sitting and wore the robes of Aurors and from the glimpse of rank it was a captain and the Auror Commander.

       :The captain is a moron so try not to get annoyed,: the Shadows whispered to him. :And it's Auror Commander Amelia Bones.:

       Inwardly, Harry nodded. It appeared Kingsley was as good as his word and the Ministry really did have an idea of what they wanted to do. Or maybe it was the Aurors and they were just going to forget to tell the rest of the Ministry. That would make more sense. He sat in one of the chairs when Dumbledore gestured that he should.

       "Harry, this is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones, and Auror Captain Baross."

       "Pleased to meet you," Harry murmured as he nodded politely.

       "Equally," Madam Bones said calmly. "I have heard much about you, Mr. Potter."

       Dumbledore smiled happily. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the elder wizard. Instead Harry focused his attention on the Aurors who were also in the office. He nodded slightly towards Madam Bones and addressed her as an equal. "What brings you here today?" he asked.

       "We came to talk to you," Madam Bones said.

       Harry raised an eyebrow to question her statement.

       "The completion of your O.W.L.s last year brought you to our attention. You have to be aware that you showed a great amount of skill during your dual with the examiners and the Aurors and the members of the Order of the Phoenix."

       "I was also aware that the Ministry was not meant to speak to me without my Godfather present."

       Madam Bones smiled at the comment. "Your Godfather was very insistent that anything for the Ministry was not to impact upon your educational requirements for the future. However Mr. Potter I have seen your results and academically speaking your future is rather good."

       Harry smiled. "Forgive me Madam Bones, I have not seen my results. From your statement I can imply that they are more than acceptable however I'm afraid that the Ministry, while allowing me to enrol in Sixth Year, has not seen fit to officially award me my O.W.L.s."

       The Head of the DMLE nodded towards him and withdrew from her robe a tight scroll of parchment. It was similar to one that was sitting before the Headmaster. She held her copy out towards Harry. The black haired young man reached forward to take the parchment before he sat back and opened it; green eyes flickered over the words. He had taken his O.W.L.s in all subjects that were available and after his second test the papers had been replaced with N.E.W.T.s. He wasn't sure how the Ministry were going to tell him that, but it appeared that they would just let his results inform him of what had happened. There was a list of subjects running down the parchment and beside the name of each subject in a neat tabular format were four figures. The first was his O.W.L. result then two figures which represented his N.E.W.T.s result separating it into written and practical results. The last figure was the overall score for his N.E.W.T. in that subject. The subjects were listed alphabetically but Harry only cared about a few.

       He smiled involuntarily when he saw that he had gotten the highest possible marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts. His smile grew wider as he looked at the rest of his results. Hermione would be jealous. In every subject in which he had taken his exam, he'd gotten the highest possible results both in the practical and the written sections except for Herbology and Potions. He remembered then that those two had been his first exams and they had probably not substituted them. Harry was not someone who deliberately tried to get good grades but at the same time he could not help but be pleased that it was very unlikely that anyone would ever get better results than he had even if the results were mostly because of his beloved's knowledge.

       "Allow me to be one of the first to congratulate you on achieving the highest N.E.W.T.s in history," Madam Bones said in a genuinely admiring tone. "As you can see, extracurricular activities will not impinge upon your school results."

       "Indeed," Harry was forced to agree with her. His servants laughed and whispered to him that it had never mattered what his results were. Both the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix needed him to fight the Dark Lord. The green eyed young man smiled at the adults present as was expected and decided to approach what would come with an innocent demeanour. "So what happens now?"

       Auror Captain Baross stirred slightly at his question. "Now you can stop dithering around and actually start fighting for us."

       Harry wasn't the only one to look at the Auror captain with some surprise. The Shadows had told him that the captain was moron but he hadn't quite believed that someone of his rank could be that completely tactless. Green eyes flicked towards the Headmaster and Harry caught the small nod of approval not at the Auror but towards himself. With a tiny condescending smile he leaned towards the Auror captain placing one elbow on his knee and resting his chin in his hand. "You say it as if I am obliged."

       "Of course you were obliged."

       "To do what?"

       "To fight!"

       "Why?" Harry said the question as innocently as he could.

       The Auror captain jerked back in surprise, he had obviously never expected such question. "Because... Because you have to."

       "No, I don't have to. You need me to." Harry couldn't resist looking slightly smug at his statement and he noticed that Madam Bones just looked frustrated. Kingsley looked a bit amused; he was no doubt the imagining the chewing out Baross would get when they got back to the office.

       "You are correct, Mr. Potter, you do not have to fight, but I was under the impression that the Dark Lord would target you and while you may prefer not to fight, he will give you no choice if you wish to survive."

       Harry nodded. He was impressed by the little he had seen of Madam Bones. She seemed to be logical as well as decent. He could tell she knew they needed him, but she was also upset that they had to rely on someone so young.

       "You are correct, Madam, he does seem rather fixated on me," Harry replied.

       Madam Bones closed her eyes briefly as she nodded. "That being the case, Harry, the Auror department would like to offer you some alternatives."

       "What type of alternatives?" Harry asked somewhat suspiciously.

       "If you truly you do not wish to fight," Madam Bones began, "then the DMLE would advise that you leave the country and create a new identity in the hope that he does not pursue and find you. Unfortunately, we equally advise that we do not think that this would work for very long."

       "I agree," Dumbledore said softly.

       After Harry had nodded, Madam Bones continued. "You are a true Gryffindor so I believe that you're more likely to fight him and therefore, the DMLE has a proposal for you. We understand that you do not wish to leave Hogwarts and we can accommodate that. You are after all a young man who should spend time with his friends. Since you are at an educational facility, I would ask that you consider taking this opportunity to pursue further education, specifically in areas where you feel it would be beneficial to achieve your Mastery."

       "That really doesn't help me fight," Harry said.

       "That would be in addition to taking a position with the DMLE," Madam Bones said easily. "Even Aurors don't fight all the time," she added quietly. "And to be honest, I have no intention of investing you as an Auror, even if you are of age. If you still wish it in a few years, then we would be happy to have you. However, it has been rightly pointed out me that it would be chaos to have you join the Aurors in combat if you are not a part of the chain of command. Put simply, we cannot have an outside party on the battlefield, no matter what your intentions are, as you are essentially a civilian. That being said, if you are willing, we would like to invest you as an Auror Apprentice. In combat you would be specifically answerable to Senior Aurors who are appointed to you."

       "Who?"

       "I was thinking your Godfather and Auror Captain Sturges," the Head of the DMLE said.

       "Sirius isn't an Auror," Harry objected.

       "When your Godfather was found to be innocent he was reinstated as an Auror who was on indefinite leave."

       "Ah," Harry said softly. "What would I be required to do?"

       Madam Bones smiled, which gave her a slightly grandmotherly look. It suited her and was far more natural on her face than Dumbledore's similar look. "Straight to the point I see. Officially, you would be aiding us in combat and the chain of command will directly apply to you. However realistically, no matter how much I might wish otherwise, the Dark Lord is likely to target you and your role then would be to fight him has best you are able with the Aurors as backup. It is a tricky situation and one that may change as time goes on.

       "I think we are all agreed that the main aim of any hostilities this year will be to kill or otherwise negate the Serpent Lord. We have lived for too long with a constant threat of war and it is time things changed. As much as I regret that we must involve such a young fighter, I will do my best to ensure that you remain safe, Harry. The Dark Lord was created by my generation and should be dealt with by those whose prejudices have led to the situation. It truly pains me that you are involved."

       Dumbledore chose that moment to speak. "It is not your fault, Amelia. Tom is the one who keeps involving Harry and we are left trying to make the best of a bad situation. Harry is both determined and resourceful and I'm sure he will use this as an opportunity to better determine if a career as an Auror is everything he thought it would be."

       "Will I be able to use all my power?"

       Dumbledore looked uncomfortable and Madam Bones was confused. "What you mean, Harry?"

       "I mean, will I be able to use all my power?"

       "What power?"

       Before Dumbledore could object and hide the truth of it, Harry sat back with a small smile and willed his servants to appear. The Headmaster's office came alive with darkness but there was nothing threatening in the movement of the Shadows. They simply flickered and danced and Harry chuckled aloud when a couple of them flowed over the paintings behind the Headmaster as if they were shadow puppets.

       Madam Bones was startled but she was not the head of the DMLE for nothing and she was quick to think on her feet. "What are they?" She asked sensibly.

       "They are my power."

       "Harry has been gifted with the old power," Albus said and Harry could detect a note of reluctance in his voice. The Headmaster did not wish to share this information. No doubt it was something that he had been hoping to reveal later which would have made Harry seem more powerful and would of course have given more credit to the Order of the Phoenix.

       "The old power?"

       "Most Dark Lords seek it and Voldemort unfortunately has it. Not the same power, instead he has the ancient power over serpents. You have faced him in person so you know how overwhelming he feels; that is a part of the old power."

       "Do you have it?" Madam Bones looked pointedly at Dumbledore.

       The Headmaster smiled attempting to appear innocuous. To the unwary eye he'd probably succeeded, but Harry was becoming more adept at reading the old wizard's mask. "No, I don't," Albus said and Harry was mildly surprised when his senses told him that the ancient wizard was speaking the truth. From the way leader of the light felt at times Harry would have said that he had some type of power.

       :He does have some type of power,: the Shadows whispered to their master, :it's just not one of the old powers.:

       :What is his power then?: Harry asked silently.

       :Power,: the shadows said easily. :Regardless of anything else, Dumbledore is a very powerful and influential wizard. You might even say that Voldemort based himself on Albus.:

       Harry was hard pressed not to laugh out loud, but he quickly turned his attention back to the Head of the DMLE as the witch looked at him with a measuring gaze.

       "What exactly does your power do?"

       "The Shadows are much like the serpents," Harry began. "Voldemort uses his snakes to spy on events and people he has an interest in. The Shadows are similar in that regard though they are more invasive but at the same time they are more easily blocked."

       "How does that help in battle?"

       "It means that the forces you have sneaking around under invisibility cloaks or spells or even just hiding behind the next corner won't be able to ambush me. The Shadows will tell me that they are there, and what their numbers are as well as any special abilities they may have."

       Madam Bones frowned slightly, she did not like the implications of this but perhaps they could be useful. "Could they spy on the Dark Lord?"

       Harry shook his head trying to project regret. "I thought about that, and have even sent one or two, but they never came back. Some of the Shadows are obeying the Serpent Lord."

       "Ah yes," Madam Bones murmured. "I remember now, there was a report that you were attacked and Dumbledore could not tell us who did it. It was _those_ Shadows wasn't it?"

       Black hair shook a little as Harry quivered. "Yes," he whispered "but I am the one they have to obey so while they attacked me they were also bound to me. I don't know what Voldemort has paid those Shadows to obey him, but they are loyal and I will only be able to bring them to our side if I touch them, one by one."

       "It's very much like the serpents," the Headmaster began. The "Harry can usually persuade one to obey him, however if Voldemort is around they will automatically respond to the true lord and by the ancient power he is the true lord of serpents. There is one more thing Harry can do to help the ministry in combat. Harry and the Dark Lord's wands share brother cores. They will recognise each other and will be reluctant to cast spells against the other at full power."

       "Very interesting," Baross finally spoke. "Is the rumour I hear about Mr. Potter having the Dark Lord's wand true?"

       "Not at all," Dumbledore said and his voice had a slight edge to it. "Mr. Potter has his own wand."

       Harry played along and drew his wand from his sleeve. It was almost comical to see the Auror Captain's eyes open wide in fear as the sight of thirteen and a half inches of yew. "That is _not_ his wand!" Baross objected.

       "I'm afraid you are mistaken," Harry said gently. "This is my wand."

       "That is the wand that has killed countless wizards and witches."

       "Once perhaps," Harry said distantly, "but no longer. Now it is my wand and if you wish to take it from me, then I will not work for the Ministry."

       "We do not wish to take it from you," Madam Bones said, "though it is somewhat surprising to see the wand that we associate with the Dark Lord in your possession, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you could explain how this came to be?"

       Harry smiled. Voldemort had given him his wand along with Xaos in an effort to help keep him safe, but the black haired boy could embellish the story a little. He didn't care if Dumbledore didn't want the information revealed. It was his story and he would tell whomever he wanted. "You are aware that the Dark Lord has been obsessed with me and has actually captured me a few times..?" he began.

       Both Baross and Madam Bones nodded and Harry continued. "The last time was during Lucius's Rebellion. I don't remember much of it, but I do remember waking up and seeing him. I don't think he expected me to be awake that quickly because his wand was on a table so I grabbed it and then I apparated out of there _very_ quickly."

       Amelia chuckled. "That seems like a very reasonable thing to do," she said with some amusement. "So Mr. Potter, what do you think of our proposal?"

       "I think I can work with it," he replied though he felt a small twinge of regret. From what he had seen, Madam Bones was the type of person he wanted to stand with them and her eventual defeat would hurt.

       "There is just one more thing, Mr. Potter. We would like your permission to publish your N.E.W.T. results. You may think it's a waste of time, but I believe such news will greatly boost the wizarding community's morale."

       Harry was shocked. They were actually _asking_ if it was okay to publish something about him rather than pretending he would be okay with it. He really would regret when the day came to take down Madam Bones. "Which paper?" he heard himself ask.

       "You have a preference?" She seemed a little surprised.

       "I realise The Quibbler has a smaller readership but they present things in a much more helpful manner."

       He was proficient enough at observing to see that Madam Bones was pleased at his reply, though she was careful to hide it. No doubt, she was Ministerially obligated to support The Daily Prophet, but that didn't preclude her having her own opinion. "I believe it would be best to give the story to both papers," she said diplomatically.

       "Yes," Harry mused, "that _would_ be best," he said, as if he hadn't thought about it like that at all. "If you think it's best, please do give them my results."

       "Good," Madam Bones said rising, which lead to a tiny scramble from Baross as he followed suit. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter. My department will be in touch, though if you see your Godfather, tell him I am expecting him to appear for duty soon." The last was said while she looked at Harry, but it was clearly directed towards Dumbledore. She held out her hand to Harry and he took it, smiling up at the Head of the DMLE.

       "I look forward to working with you, Mr. Potter," Amelia said simply.

       "So do I," Harry replied, smiling at the way the Shadows were laughing. Dumbledore misread his expression and looked very pleased. No doubt this little arrangement would bring a great deal of power and credit to the Order of the Phoenix. Fawkes trilled, the notes happy, and everyone felt uplifted. Harry was almost surprised. It had been a while since he had felt the power of the phoenix's song.

       :That's because it's been a while since he was genuine about it,: the Shadows commented and Harry nodded, watching as the Aurors flooed back to the Ministry. This had been a very useful meeting and it practically guaranteed the eventual outcome.

       He felt sorry for Madam Bones though because the outcome would not be what she expected and there was nothing he would do to change that.

===

       The Dark Lord sat in quiet contemplation.

       Kisha was away for the moment. No matter their agreement, she was still a vampire elder and still had duties to attend to. She'd indicated she'd be back in a few weeks and Voldemort snorted to himself. Duties. She had to make sure that when their alliance broke her forces would be in position, though she was tactful enough not to say that outright. Her support was amusing now, it would not change much in this game and he knew that she was playing her own game. She would help him, but only so long as it suited vampire interests. She though probably thought they'd be allied for longer than they would be. He knew that their paths would part before the year was out, but he also knew that Kisha would adapt fast and know when the time had come. All that remained now was who betrayed whom first. For now though...

       "Arabella..." he called the name of the Auror he had given to Xeoaph as assurance; the gift he had now been given back, slightly altered. She was his proof that Kisha had been in contact with her childe and knew both sides of the game. It would be interesting to know the vampire elder's reasoning to support him, but he would live without the knowledge, and in the end it made no difference.

       "What do you want?" A sullen voice answered his call.

       He smiled. So the Auror maintained some spirit yet, but was obviously tied by her elder's order to obey him. "Come forward." He ordered, willing her to move into his line of sight. He wasn't sure yet what to do with this vampire youngling, but he would use her. It was only fitting that he should make use of his gift. "That's better," the Serpent Lord said as the ex-Auror moved forward with a less than good grace.

       He half-closed his eyes as he looked at her. He'd left her to her own devices for a few weeks and she'd spent the time exploring his stronghold before reading some books from the library. She hadn't attempted to run and had been respectful when requesting food, something that had surprised him slightly though he had sensed her dislike of her need.

       She was dressed plainly in clothes that would not bring overt attention in either wizarding or Muggle crowds - loose pants of a faded blue with a dark red jumper that showed the collar of the shirt beneath. A single simple stud earring pierced each ear and the Dark Lord could not see any other ornamentation. Even her hair was styled to be forgettable. As a fledgling vampire he presumed she'd been instructed to be innocuous, something her wizarding heritage of hiding with Muggles and her Auror training would have reinforced. Her appearance was designed to give the illusion of normalcy and harmlessness and while she was harmless to him, he did not discount the damage she could do if he used her correctly. But before he could even consider that, there was something more important the Serpent Lord had to know. There were some things that were unforgivable and if she had known then, while her life span was measured in years, they would be years of agony.

       "Did you know?" he asked.

       "Know what?" Arabella returned the question. She had the good taste to look genuinely unsure as to what he was asking.

       Voldemort resisted the urge to lash at her with his power as he forcibly reminded himself that it was possible she did not know and an inkling of an idea formed. "Perhaps it is possible you do not know," he murmured, half to himself and half to calm her as she had become tense knowing full well his volatile temper. "Tell me about Harry," he instructed looking at her fully.

       "About Harry?" She once again questioned his request, her tone confused.

       "You were the Auror assigned to watch him, so tell me about him. I am curious to know about the boy that the wizards hold as a saviour," he added the last hoping to put her at ease with the thought of his downfall.

       She smiled despite of the situation she was in, the expression gone almost before it appeared. "He was a quiet boy. With that overbearing whale of a cousin it was easy to lose him and I think half the neighbours forgot he even existed. That's kind of hard though because he has... well I don't know what it is," Arabella searched for the words, her voice becoming softer, less confrontational as she recalled her memories. "A sense of presence," she decided speaking gently. "Even when he was trying not to be noticed, you just knew he was there, not in a bad way, of course, but just in the way that you always knew where he was. Well... I did anyway, though perhaps that's because of the magic. No one else seemed to notice him quite as much."

       "Oh, they did," the Dark Lord interjected, a note of steel underlying the soft velvet of his voice.

       "Well my cover was as that irascible old cat-obsessed biddy down the street and since I was there to watch him, I noticed him. I know why Harry had to stay with his relatives, but I think someone should have better explained it to them. Or maybe they did and they were just Muggles. They weren't exactly happy to have to take care of him but they did. You could tell though, sometimes they wanted him elsewhere. Not often, just sometimes though with that spoilt whale of a son taking their attention it just appeared they weren't noticing him. I reported it, but was told he needed to stay there... for all the good it did," she muttered the last, thinking back on the night the Dark Lord had decided to come for Harry.

       "It did make a difference," Voldemort told her.

       "Could have fooled me," she retorted with spirit.

       "Without the blood protection, I would have come for him, or one of my followers would have a lot earlier and he would be dead. Assuming he made it to his first year at Hogwarts, he would not have made it to the second year, that I assure you. It did take quite a bit of planning to cut through those defenses as easily as I did."

       "Well... maybe they did do some good but... sometimes I think it would have been better if he was with someone else."

       "Perhaps," the Dark Lord said. "Go on," he added the instruction.

       "There's not much more to say," Arabella replied. "Not unless you have something specific you want to know."

       "There is," he said, concentrating slightly to transport a thin sheaf of parchment into her hands. It wouldn't take her long to read and he'd know from her reaction if she had known.

       "What's this?" Arabella questioned, forgetting for a moment who she was talking to and what he represented. The Dark Lord was surprisingly... nice all things considered, but she was aware that he was assessing her worth and she knew from her training as an Auror that this Lord had mastered the subtleties of appearing friendly. He knew that there was no point in making an enemy, even of one bound to obey such as she was. If he wanted to be civil though, she supposed she would return the favour, but she would watch him carefully and she would not be surprised when civility ended and he once again became the brutal creature of Dark she knew he was.

       "Just read it; you will no doubt recognise the seal."

       Looking down she did recognise the seal which shone slightly with magic. Wax held the parchment pieces together but stamped into the wax was the seal of the High Wizard Tribunal, the ultimate governing body for Wizards. As she looked, the illusion embedded into the seal activated and she saw the two crossed wands spring out of the parchment, the point of impact defined by small sparks and a laurel of an omega surrounded the two. Unless this was one of the best forgeries she had ever seen, this was a legitimate document.

       "How did...?" she started, not quite sure how to phrase the question. "Where did...?"

       "Just read it," the Serpent Lord replied, waving one hand slightly to dismiss any further inquiry.

       Arabella broke the seal with some trepidation, not really seeing as the illusion wavered and vanished as the parchment opened. These were official documents she decided somewhat glumly wondering what was so important for her to read. But the parchment bore the heavy feel of the High Tribunal and was shot through with tiny gold veins. Stamped over the writing though was a charm of concealment, or what was left of one and she shivered involuntarily. This was the testament from a sealed case, one that as not meant to ever become public.

       She scanned through the basic details, feeling her eyes widen with each name she read... Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy and others she didn't recognise... What were they doing in court together? Chief Judge Gilamy Horton was a name she recognised and respected. His reputation was severe, but he was one of the toughest but fairest judges who took the hardest cases. Seeing his name was not comforting.

       She read on, before flinging the parchment from her as she spun, instinctively turning away as she retched, grimacing in pain as her stomach muscles contracted on an empty stomach. She couldn't stop though and coughed as her eyes watered, the tears streaming down her face. The ex-Auror had forgotten this. On high level cases the testament was be-spelled to make you actually feel the evidence, to make you see the case. It was an effective way to prevent questions about the legitimacy of the decision by those who weren't there and who didn't have the facts and in this case... Arabella shuddered, wiping her mouth reflectively as she brought herself back under control.

       The Dark Lord watched her reaction impassively, his eyes showing nothing as she took several deep breaths to steady herself. Breathing wasn't necessary for a vampire, but she was still close to human and the reflex helped to calm her. Arabella wasn't ashamed by her reaction; if anything the rising sense of guilt and shame was brought about by her inaction... she'd been set to watch young Harry and she'd missed... How the hell did Muggles do that... how did they hide that...?

       "Well, did you know?"

       "I... what... _No_!"

       "Did you _know_?"

       Arabella flinched away. If Voldemort had screamed or shouted she would have been more comforted yet his voice was soft and quiet, displaying more raw menace and power than she really wanted to deal with. Even Kisha at her angriest had been less frightening.

       "No, the Dursleys were normal..."

       "Did you know?"

       "They always had visitors, but so did everyone else..." the young vampire stumbled at her words, struggling to breathe at the presence that was focused upon her.

       "Did you know?"

       "With Vernon's business it was normal for people to come and _yeargh_!" she screamed as a lance of power ripped through her, making her arch on the spot, quivering as her muscles locked and twisted of their own accord.

       "You are making excuses," the Dark Lord said softly. "Did you _know_?"

       Desperate to escape Arabella did the only thing she could, grasping at the power Kisha had bestowed upon her with her making, even so the Serpent Lord's grip was such that she couldn't completely shake his power, or else her master's wish that she serve was still in effect.

       " _Of course I didn't know_!" she screamed back at him. "If I'd have known you wouldn't have the Muggles to torture!" she added as a rage filled her. She still felt guilty, and sickened by what she had felt, but she wasn't the one to blame for this and she wanted to rend things for it. Her fledging power whipped around her, but the Dark Lord didn't even flinch as he extended his force again.

       Arabella felt a flash of panic as the power cut through her newly-raised defences and then all she felt was pain as everything in her seemed to writhe against everything else. She didn't feel herself fall to the ground as the sensations warred for attention. She felt nauseous and cold at the same time as she burned and her lungs screamed for air, but the passage of wind in her throat sent tickles of ice and flame around her neck and she choked.

       :She didn't know,: a whisper came eventually, followed by a deliberate foot fall as someone else entered the room, stepping out from the shadows.

       For a moment Arabella thought it was her master, but as the Dark Lord's power weakened slightly on her she looked up and saw the face of death.

       "Do you think if she'd known, I'd have let her out of the Atrium alive?"

       The pain the Dark Lord had caused vanished, washed away by pure unreasoning panic. Arabella got her body working well enough to scramble away from the new speaker. She only got a couple of yards before she collapsed again, still trying to flee but a couple of yards was more distance than before. Black hair, black eyes, and black clothes. The ... thing before her was plain, but she could feel the pull of his power, feel her vampiric blood reacting to the one who had killed so many of her brothers and sisters... even if she didn't want them as brothers and sisters.

       Voldemort inspected the newcomer for a moment. He was going to have to have a word with the Shadows about defences and soon, but he was experienced enough to play along. "No," he said softly and while the word was denial, his tone was agreement. "I don't suppose you would have if she had known." He let his power fade from the youngling vampire. "But I also don't expect that she is important enough for you to come visiting."

       "Ah, quite true," came the equally soft reply, the voice pitched so as to be unrecognizable though definitely male. "I'm here for a few reasons, but let us first deal with this one," the Shadow's Servant said, turning towards the vampire. "They have one thing they wish to know, Arabella," he said gently, his tone lightly inquisitive without being forceful. "Have you taken of Kisha's blood and bite?"

       The Dark Lord stirred at the question. He could tell the vampire youngling was Xeoaph's childe, but because her blood called to his and he'd assumed that she was merely a servant of the elder vampire. But if she was also a childe... In the end it would mean nothing, but it did perhaps open other avenues to be pursued.

       "I ... ah..."

       "Answer him, little one," Voldemort instructed, his voice carrying the coerciveness of master to servant, and her vampiric elder's words had made her his servant and she could not disobey.

       "Yes," Arabella confessed, looking down at the ground. "Xeoaph made me and while that means I am subject to Kisha's orders, she prefers more direct control and so she remade me. I cannot take Xeoaph on though, if that is what you are thinking."

       The Serpent Lord was slightly surprised when the Shadow Servant laughed quietly. "Nothing of the sort, my dear Auror, however were you to make such a move you would find yourself supported by the Shadows, even though for now you'd be doomed to fail."

       The young vampire nodded. "I'm not strong enough yet," she admitted and the Dark Lord blinked, realising now what he should do with her.

       "I, like the Shadows could probably push you to the point where you had the power," he said, "but you lack the experience," he added, "something Xeoaph discounted too heavily when he backed Lucius." The Dark Lord brought his hands together as the Shadow Servant nodded at him, stepping back slightly to allow him to once again take control of the situation. "Since your usefulness as a combat vampire is limited by your youth Arabella, I am forced now to find an alternate use for you. You will, I trust, therefore ignore the blatantness of the following questions. Would the Auror's accept you back?"

       Arabella rose, trembling slightly as she steadied herself on her feet against one of the pillars of the Serpent Lord's throne room. The Shadow creature was still there, but he had withdrawn slightly and didn't appear to be paying much attention. She couldn't sense him either as a vampire or wizard and the only reason she knew he was still there is that she had yet to take her eyes from him. While his previously demonstrated ability in the Atrium was proof enough that she was unlikely to be able to defend against anything he could do to her, she wasn't about to let him strike her from behind. If she was to die, she wanted to at least attempt to defend herself. But it appeared that the Shadow creature had lost interest in her after that one question and now was watching Voldemort with a slightly calculating gaze, a gaze the Dark Lord did not see because his attention was focused on her.

       She shook her head, both to answer the question and to clear it. There was too much going on here that she didn't understand; too many chances for her to make a fatal misstep and she didn't want to die. Nor did she wish to become a living symbol of an alliance she had nothing to do with. "With the current state of affairs between the Order of the Phoenix and Vampires, they might accept me," she elaborated "but as soon as that's over, I'd be over too." She concluded with a small shudder at the thought of her death at Auror hands. The Shadow creature nodded slightly, as if agreeing with her.

       Voldemort showed no reaction, but a slightly flickering of his eyes showed he was considering her answer. "Well then, what do you want?"

       The question took her by surprise. As an Auror, she'd been ordered to serve her duty; her desires didn't come into it. The Dark Lord had certainly not asked her opinion when he used her against Xeoaph, nor had that vampire when he turned her. Kisha had been slightly more considerate, but in the end, the elder vampire's desires were absolute. What did she want?

       "I don't want to be a vampire," she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

       "That wasn't exactly my intention, either," the Dark Lord said with an amused lilt to his voice. "But nor is that something I can change. What else do you want?"

       "I don't want to serve you."

       That reply earned her a hissing chuckle. "As I recall, I do not want you to serve me. Though I do wonder... If you do not wish to be a vampire, yet you are one, and you do not wish to serve me, but by your master's command you are now bound to, why have you not killed yourself?"

       "I do not wish to die yet," Arabella said with some heat.

       "Well this does leave us with a quandary, though not one that is unsolvable. I believe, I will give you a gift," the Dark Lord said.

       "A gift?" the former Auror questioned uncertainly, her doubt plain to hear.

       Arabella felt her breath catch in her throat as her attention focused on the Dark Lord. The movement was subtle, but it was there as he gathered his power and alarmed, she tensed, replaying his words through her mind... A gift... that would only mean one thing. She lacked the desire to kill herself, even though she loathed her current predicament. He was not so inhibited and as his hand moved towards his wand, her eyes narrowed as her power gathered. She didn't have to block it all; she just had to dodge him. That would be enough to save her. Her power gathered as she prepared to fight her creators' command of servitude and as she raised her hands to strike, there was a flash from her side, followed instantly by a hot pain and she knew darkness as she fell.

       "Very smooth," the Dark Lord complimented his guest as the young vampire fell in a compact heap. He hadn't missed her power spikes, but she had obviously forgotten the Shadow Servant was still here.

       "Don't get used to it," the man said as he stepped forward into the light, moving over to the young vampire before crouching beside her. As the Dark Lord watched, he pushed back her sleeve and made a quick incision with a dagger drawn from his belt. A sluggish stream of crimson oozed from the wound that was already closing itself and the Shadow Servant wasted no time in collecting the blood, filling several vials that he held expertly between his fingers. When the three were full, he wiped away the excess blood and pulled her sleeve back into place, letting the arm fall again before he rose and stoppered each vial. He re-sheathed his dagger and tucked two of the vials into a belt pouch. The third he kept out and was spun idly though his fingers as he examined the Dark Lord.

       Voldemort was not offended by such an intense gaze and indeed he used the time to assess the man he had heard about but had never seen. He knew who he was of course, but this was the first time he'd actually seen the man. More importantly, he did not know who lay behind that mask. Was it some wizard the Shadows controlled entirely, or was it someone Harry trusted... someone who knew Harry's true heritage and who therefore knew what his true relationship was with the Boy Who Lived?

       Eventually the man sighed, clenching the vial in one fist as he ran his other hand through his hair. "I still do not see it," he said softly.

       "See what?" The serpent Lord enquired.

       "What the Shadow Lord sees in you," came the response before another sigh. "But I suppose I do not have to see it," the man continued. "All I need to know is that you are true and I can see that clearly enough."

       Voldemort smirked. "And if you don't?"

       "You won't live past the day I don't," came the ice cold reply without the faintest trace of bravado or doubt, and the Dark Lord felt himself nod as the surety of the voice recognizing the promise for what it was.

       This man was not threatening; it was merely a statement of fact, something the Shadows confirmed with their flicker. For them though it was still somewhat playful as if daring him to try, but it carried the promise that they would be behind this man if it came to it.

       "That will not happen," Voldemort said confidently as he closed his red eyes, thinking of his mate. "It will not happen," he repeated, looking back towards the Shadow Servant to find him gone, along with the youngling vampire, leaving behind the last vial of blood on the stone.

       "What..?" Voldemort questioned.

       :You were going to let her go, weren't you?: the Shadows said, their voice echoing with amusement at his reaction.

       "Yes, but..."

       :Well then, our Servant will take her and let her go somewhere where it is safe to do so. Then we can see what path she walks.:

       "I expect her to go back to the vampires," Voldemort said, recovering slightly. The Shadows had pre-empted his request and that was actually good. If they did this voluntarily, he didn't have to pay them for the service.

       They chuckled as his thought. :Now you are getting the hang on it,: they said cheerfully before returning back to the subject of the ex-Auror. :Yes, she will most likely go back to the vampires, which will in due course, lead back to us.:

       Voldemort nodded, knowing that that 'us' referred to him as well. Arabella would go back to the vampires because that's the only life she had left unless she decided to become a complete recluse or hide within the Muggle population. Neither of those options were likely or feasible and Voldemort smiled; he knew she knew that. Which meant the vampires, and with her power having been re-made by Kisha, Arabella would, over time gather much influence with them. And when they rose against him, as they would invariably do, he would be waiting and the duty laid upon her by Kisha would be claimed.

       He summoned the vial to him, tucking it into his sleeve. It always was much more pleasant when people participated in their own downfall and he did so hope that in time, Kisha would appreciate her handiwork.

===

       "Harry," Hermione said as they sat down for lunch.

       "Yes?"

       "You know that book you got me for my birthday?"

       "You mean the one I gave to you a couple of days ago on that joyous occasion?" Harry asked. For no apparent reason, he was feeling somewhat whimsical.

       "Yes, that one," Hermione confirmed with a frown, "How do you open it?" She asked in a rush.

       Green eyes twinkled in much the same way as Dumbledore's were known too. "Oh, I imagine it will open when it feels the time is right," he said to her, helping himself to some sandwiches before passing the plate down the table.

       "Harry!" she objected, hitting him lightly on the arm.

       "Please mate, could you just tell her?" Ron begged. "She's going to be intolerable unless she can read it," he took the sting out of his words with the smile he directed towards Hermione.

       Harry grinned at his friends. "It really will open when it thinks the time is right," he repeated softly. "There's no trick to it or anything like that, but I promise it will be worth the wait."

       "It better be," Hermione said in a huff. In the relative quiet routine of classes after the adventure on the Express she thought that they had perhaps forgotten her birthday and when she had woken that morning to find them treating the day as nothing unusual, that belief had been reinforced. She still didn't know how Ron had managed to keep his mouth shut the entire day until the evening, when she had come back from the library to find the Gryffindor common room festooned with streamers and a large cake in the middle of the room. The entire House had sung Happy Birthday to her as she'd stood in the doorway her cheeks flaming red.

       Even if she was embarrassed she was grateful to her House Mates and while the point of a birthday was not for the presents, she had been touched by how thoughtful they had been. Even Harry's which she couldn't open was great. She could tell it was rare and that it would be something she treasured once she had read it... though it was frustrating waiting. She was sure Harry knew how to open it but he obviously was holding back on something. In his twinkling eyes there had also been the hint of knowledge.

       She wasn't sure Harry was having a lot of fun this year. In class he usually sat near the back and only answered questions when asked. Hermione knew that the others in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes had wondered why he was there during their first classes. The wonderers had shut up very quickly when he'd answered some of the questions posed to him with dry, concise and in depth explanations that frankly, left most of them shaking their heads wondering about the truth of the answer... Right up until the Professors had agreed with him. Now though he still went to class but he was working on other things.

       He may have been used to having the Dark Lord after him, but there was something unnerving about _how_ calmly he was reacting. Hermione had read the interview that had come out in the paper the day after the news of Azkaban had been published. It was astounding how candid the Dark Lord had been and if she took what the reporter Elliot Bryant had written as not being overly edited then she had so many questions and she could almost begin to see why the Dark Lord had taken his path. But that was only if what she read was really there and not editorial artefact. After reading Skeeter's articles, the muggleborn witch was cautious. She was also fairly sure that Harry could answer her questions as well, maybe not immediately but he may be privy to information about the Dark Lord via his memories. She just didn't know how to ask because asking would touch on several very raw nerves.

       She wasn't blind; she hadn't missed how Harry was up before them all _every day_. She hadn't missed the way he sometimes snapped at people for no apparent reason or how he looked both sad and so angry at the same time when he thought no one was looking. She knew what happened last year, she had a fair idea something had happened while he was with the Dursley's too though he'd never mentioned it and she felt sick on his behalf. It was probably a good thing that he was angry but she didn't want that anger to cause him to make a mistake with the Dark Lord. And even if she was right about the Serpent Lord, proving her suspicions did not lead to any solutions.

       Hermione looked over at Harry and wished there was some way she could help him. She couldn't even help him with his homework! Not since his N.E.W.T.s had been revealed and he had told them he was going to start his Mastery in some subjects. About the only thing she could think of was to be there for him. And that just didn't seem enough.

===

 

 


	27. Battles Are Fought On All Ground

Weapon   
Chapter 27 Battles Are Fought On All Ground

===

       Voldemort sat with his eyes half closed just listening to the screams. To him it seemed that everyone was holding their breath, just waiting for his forces to strike again and they would and had been. Almost every day brought a small skirmish between his Death Eater's and the Ministry and already he could see that the Ministry was gearing up for Halloween. It was a night of power for him but he could feel that this year it would be different.

       It wasn't his forces. They would be recovered in time, though the werewolves would not yet be in his thrall. He hadn't been too happy at Fenrir's report until the werewolf Pack Leader had pointed out that when he won the battle for Pack Leader of the Isles then most of the werewolves _would_ follow him. A few, like the Order Member, Remus Lupin wouldn't follow but that was a small price to pay. He had sensed reluctance from Gideon as well. The werewolf had reported back to him and the Shadows had confirmed that they had seen to his escape, though they hadn't said why but the werewolf had changed. From the small amount of observation the Dark Lord had been able to engage in, he rather thought that his young werewolf was enamoured of the Shadows. If that's all it was, then Voldemort could afford to be forgiving. If it was something else... well there was only one punishment for those who disobeyed him.

       Those Death Eater's, both new and old, who had recovered enough were currently amusing themselves torturing Lucius's followers. Lucius himself was strung up nearby and occasionally the Serpent Lord would send a crucio his way. For the most part, it was the elder Malfoy's punishment to watch. Apart from the crucio spells Lucius was not completely unharmed, the iron torc was still around his neck, as were the bracelets and anklets and with his loyal Death Eater's indulging themselves the metal had heated up rather significantly. Additionally, while the Dark Lord considered it rather crude, he was indulging in some experimentation. Small metal hooks had been driven into the wizard's flesh and they were being pulled taunt by wire. Not so tight as to rip flesh but tight enough that they were causing Lucius pain. The small noises of discomfort he was making were proof of that.

       Voldemort rose. While his loyal forces were entertaining themselves he had his own duties to attend to. There were those who had tried to come back to the fold that he had to deal with. It was a simple thing he needed to do and after he had driven his dagger into each heart, he flicked his hand, transporting the bodies back into storage. They would go to feed the various creatures who had come at his call.

       He tried to bring his mind back around to why Halloween did not feel right but his dear Bellatrix and her team chose that moment to return, striding into the hall confidently. She looked around for a moment before an insalubrious smile fixed itself on her features. "My Lord," she said, her voice sensuous when she saw Lucius. "Allow me to wring your name from this traitor."

       "Ah, my dear Bellatrix," Voldemort almost purred and he watched her quiver in happiness. "No words of mercy for your dear brother in law?"

       She snorted. "He's not."

       "My dear?"

       "He's not my brother in law."

       "Bella," the Dark Lord said in a tone that clearly indicated that she should not delude herself.

       "He is not my brother in law because Narcissa is not my sister."

       Voldemort sighed. He knew there would be some damage from Azkaban but if Bellatrix could not tell reality from what she might wish then this could be dangerous for him.

       "Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, youngest daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black, wife of Lucius Malfoy, mother of Draco Malfoy, sister of Bellatrix LeStrange nee Black and Andromeda Tonks nee Black."

       Bellatrix smiled at him. "All of that is true my Lord, except for her being my sister.'

       "Your desire to disown her is admiral..." the Dark Lord started, trying to be reasonable.

       Bellatrix looked to the ground, almost ashamed, which was odd, because she was never ashamed unless some prisoner she had been torturing died before she was complete and then her shame was more anger. "I'm not meant to know, my Lord. Narcissa is not my sister, though every blood test you or the goblins or anyone can do will show that. She was adopted into the house of Black."

       "I did not think such a thing would have been tolerated," Voldemort said softly, gesturing for Bellatrix to come close, close enough that he did not need to ward the entire floor so that they could speak privately. He trusted his Death Eaters to a point but there was information they did not need to know. This seemed very much like that. He was mildly surprised when one of the Shadows crept close enough to be included in the warding. They also seemed interested in this. Lucius was also suspended within the warding and the Serpent Lord could see that the blond rebellion leader was also interested.

       "My Lord, you know I'm not from the Main branch of the House of Black. While the sub families can expect some help from the Main Family, we don't have access to the vault and we are expected to make our own way in contributing the prestige of the House. Obviously we needed money and power and that's how it happened, my Lord. Narcissa's mother had both power and money and in exchange for us adopting Narcissa as the younger sister, my Father received a _lot_ of galleons."

       "Interesting. Who was her mother?"

       Bellatrix shook her head, black hair whipping around slightly as if to emphasise her denial. "I'm sorry, my Lord, I don't know. I only ever saw the woman once when she brought Narcissa and cast all the charms to make everything official."

       "She used charms?" The charms used to hide blood status required a ridiculous amount of power but were also notoriously easy to detect and break.

       "There were some potions as well," Bellatrix added with a small shudder as she remembered the taste.

       That was more likely, Voldemort considered. In the past it had not been that unusual for purebloods to adopt another pureblood child though as per usual they did not like to admit it and the charms and potions had been developed to hide all evidence of the adoption from the rest of the wizarding world. If you had spread the story that your wife was pregnant and at the appropriate time she appeared with a babe in arms, no one asked too many awkward questions and the potions and charms ensured that any blood ancestry tests revealed your newly adopted child to be a part of your family.

       "So your father ended up with money he could not use and you with a younger sister."

       "Yes, my Lord."

       "Was anything else said about her adoption?"

       "Only that Narcissa would be powerful enough to be a member of the House of Black.'

       The Serpent Lord suddenly remembered Draco as the blond had been when he was fighting him in the wreckage of the Express. His spells and charms, while predictable, had been cast with great power. He nodded at Bellatrix. "At least on that, the deal was upheld. Why did you never tell me this before?" The Shadows had indicated that Narcissa was blocking them. Could this be because of her unknown bloodline?

       "I didn't remember before, my Lord."

       Ah, another memory charm made obsolete by extreme and prolonged exposure to Dementors. Voldemort nodded and let the warding fade. He needed to think on this but before he could settle, he was interrupted by Lucius' dry laughter. The man had been interested in Bellatrix's announcement, probably to take his mind off the pain but now, despite his predicament he seemed genuinely happy.

       "I always wondered why Cissy said I never need worry about the inbreeding of the Blacks," he rasped.

       Bellatrix whirled, her face drawn in a snarl and her teeth bared towards the elder Malfoy as if she was some type of animal. "What did you say?" she demanded in a hiss.

       "Such a fine display of inbreeding," Lucius murmured.

       Black hair flew wildly as Bellatrix screamed and levelled her wand at Malfoy. " _Avada Kedrava_!"

       With barely two metres between them, it was hard to believe anyone could miss and Bellatrix was left staring when Lucius twitched and the brilliant green curse flew passed him. An instant later he seemed to be covered by darkness and the new Head of the House of LeStrange turned to confront her master when he chided her.

       For those Death Eaters who had been watching the entire time, it was confirmation of what they had already known. Bellatrix had drawn her wand and cast, seemingly without warning but they had seen their Lord's wand ready before the witch had even reached for hers. Their Lord was always alert, even with his most loyal followers.

       Bellatrix was confronted by the very avatar of what she worshiped. Voldemort was still sitting but he was wreathed in darkness and around him was the largest serpent she had ever seen. Its neck came down over her Lord's shoulder so that her Lord seemed to be watching her from above it. The snakes tongue flickered as it tasted the air and she could see the barest hint of yellow under its closed eyelids. Nagini was present as well, still wrapped around the bottom of Voldemort's throne but she seemed lost in the coils of the other reptile.

       "Bellatrix," it was Lucius who spoke with sudden force. "Look upon your Lord and see! See the serpents he has always been allied with but see also the darkness, the Shadows that wish to consume everything. Look upon him and know that this is not the Lord you once knew.

       "I made a mistake. I assumed that his change was obsession but I was wrong. It is not obsession; it is complete and utter capitulation.

       "The time has come to choose and he already has chosen to abandon you. Look at him Bellatrix, look at him and _see_!"

       "Shut up!" Bellatrix screamed at Lucius and this time her spell was true and Malfoy began screaming. "I see my Lord, at the height of his power. I see that the serpents have been true, which is more than can be said for the likes of you! I see that the darkness obeys him! I see that he is everything, _everything_ , the Lord I swore my life to should be. You made a mistake! Ha! I spit upon your words. You rose above yourself!"

       "Bellatrix," Voldemort said in a gentle tone. He was aware of her affection for him and it cost him little to give her small courtesies that she viewed as reciprocation. "As much as I'd like to let you kill him, he hasn't been punished enough."

       "He will never be punished enough!"

       "Oh, he will be, in time," the Dark Lord disagreed mildly. "Soon enough he will be begging for forgiveness, in between screaming to die. And so until that time, he gets the dubious pleasure of living. I promised dear Lucius that he would be screaming my name before he died, and I am a man of my word."

       "My Lord!" She objected.

       "It is enough Bellatrix. He is here because he is not as wise as you. He never was asked the question but his answer is plain. Lucius believes blood alone is enough and that is why he failed. Power is the key and it is power he believes I have capitulated to, when in reality it is power that I have bought! And the irony is now Lucius," Voldemort turned to smile at his prisoner, "your life and those of your followers are also serving as my coin to pay the power that defeated you. I wish now to seduce their master, because with him at my beck and call, the price is already paid."

       "You see Bellatrix," Lucius gasped as the effects of the crucio curse faded from his body. "When it comes to a choice between the Death Eater's and his new so called allies, you will be dropped."

       Voldemort smirked. Lucius did so like to be dramatic. "Nothing has changed. If you go against my desires, you are my enemy and every ally is weighed against others. Know this Bellatrix, they are allies of the highest order and if you go against them, I will not help you. And that has always been my way."

       "Yes my Lord," the dark haired witch murmured as though chastened, regardless that he had done nothing of the sort.

===

       :Hello Severus,: the Shadows greeted the Potion Master as he made his way to his quarters.

       He tried to ignore them. He tried so hard and sometimes it was hours before they could recapture his attention. It was an amusing part of the game for them, a game that was nearly at its end.

       :You haven't really had a good day, have you Severus?: The Shadows continued conversationally. The Potion Master only ever spoke to them at the entry to his rooms so they were not perturbed by his lack of response. He spoke then because he believed his quarters were sufficiently warded from them. Very soon he would find out otherwise.

       :All you have to do is accept our offer and you can be away from here, and just think what a relief that would be. How long did it take you to clean up that First Year mess?: It was perhaps cruel to mention the explosion that the First Year Hufflepuff's had caused when they had inadvertently mixed together coarse chopped bat fur with julienned moonflower. Normally you'd think those two ingredients went together. They didn't, and the results were rather spectacular.

       :Three... four hours? And let's not mention the Fourth Year Ravenclaws. You would think they would have the good taste to shut up but no... It's always 'why this' and 'why that'... Surely they could read the answers out of the text... We sympathise, Severus, we truly do. It's probably a good thing most of them will drop Potions for Sixth Year. Then they would really be annoying!

       :And let's not forget about the vampire; always wanting to know about our dear Harry! You could talk to him you know. Both of them actually but we really meant the vampire. He'd understand... He can't help you but he'd understand. Or he'd pretend he did. It's so hard to tell with a vampire that old, isn't it?

       :Or you could talk to our dear Harry. We know you aren't afraid. You are Severus Snape, spy extraordinaire for the Order of the Phoenix. Nothing makes you afraid... so why haven't you spoken to our dear Harry? It's not like you haven't had weeks of opportunity... Ah... could it be you don't trust him? Now, now, now, Severus, that's bad. Harry is a fellow member of the Order of the Phoenix. The controls your Dark Lord left in him have been destroyed. And you know, just as we do, that there were controls left there. Why do you doubt? Do you doubt Fawkes?

       :Maybe you should since he's no longer keeping us at bay? But maybe that's because he's keeping the Dark Lord at bay instead. It's all very complicated, isn't it? You should talk to Harry though, Severus. Unlike the vampire, who would just pretend to understand, dear Harry _will_ understand completely. But you won't, will you? Because it's so much nobler to suffer in peace and because you don't trust our dear Harry, despite everything that has happened to prove to you that he is not the Dark Lord's pawn, you still don't trust him.

       :That could either be very wise, or it could be your undoing. You might want to think about which it is, Severus.

       :Though think about this also Severus, if you take up our offer, then it won't matter. The Dark Lord, the Order of the Phoenix, that vampire, dear Harry and of course all the lovely students you _so_ look forward to teaching every day... All of that will become meaningless and you can concentrate on what is important...

       :The soft simmer of a potion, the gentle waft of the fumes, the meticulous preparation and the perfection that comes from brewing. There will be no more explosions, no more idiotic questions, you will be free! The Dark Lord won't be able to find you, the Order will become a memory and the vampire will die... though we admit, not immediately. And of course our dear Harry won't be an issue either. Freedom, Severus, that's what we are offering,: the Shadows kept a happy voice during the monologue.

       "Why?" Snape asked softly as he reached his door.

       :Why, Severus? Why do we offer you everything you've ever wanted? It's simple, Severus, we have wanted you for a very long time. You know that, you've seen us, you've heard us, and you've known us all your life. We have wanted you and you know Severus, we are going to have you. You've made a mistake. You probably don't think it's a mistake but it was. And very soon the Dark Lord is going to call you to task for it.

       :The Order won't be able to save you, because the Order is a part of this mistake. The Dark Lord will call you soon. He already knows you whisper to Dumbledore. He accepts that because you whisper to him as well... but you've whispered something you shouldn't have, you've whispered something he didn't want the Old Coot to know and he will want you to pay for that.

       :Only we can save you, Severus. It will cost us, make no mistake about that, but we can save you and we will save you if you take up our offer.

       :Think about it, Severus, what it really means! No students, no whinging and whining and snivelling from them. No back chat, no idiotic questions and no attempting to keep a balance in the House of Serpents. Think what it will mean to you to not answer to the Dark Lord, to not answer to Dumbledore and to know that it won't matter which side dear Harry is on because you are with us! And therefore he too will be on your side.

       :And then Severus, think of the pain it will cause James Potter to know that _his_ son supports and protects you.: The Shadows laughed, they'd been saving that little titbit for a while now.

       :Freedom, Severus. Freedom from the mutually exclusive magical oaths you have sworn and all we want in return is for you to brew us a few little potions while you pursue your own research.

       :No one will _ever_ offer you a better choice.:

       "I know," Snape said as he stepped through the door.

       "I know," he repeated in a whisper as he leaned against the oak after locking it and he was not surprised to feel tears running down his face.

===

       Harry sat under a tree near the lake. It was the first Quidditch game of the year - Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff - and usually he'd be watching avidly. It wasn't quite the same as playing himself, but today he just couldn't bring himself to watch. With the way he felt, if he was there he'd have said something or done something that he would have regretted.

       He'd dreamed last night. He'd remembered everything that happened to him. And as each of the men had pushed him into their favourite position he'd been able to see Dumbledore, sitting in the high chair he used during feasts at Hogwarts just watching. He supposed that was his mind's way of trying to tell him who was responsible. A hot red anger was rolling around in him now and he almost wished that his mind had come up with another way of representing that. He felt dirty from the acts that had been inflicted, but it made him feel sick and ashamed to think that someone had been watching even when he knew that the Headmaster had not really been there and had not really been watching.

       The problem was of course that the Headmaster _should_ have been watching. He should have been keeping tabs on the Dursleys to ensure that everything was okay. He hadn't been. And that just made Harry even angrier. Why hadn't anyone cared? No one had been able to answer to him just why no one had bothered to check up on him for eleven years! Obviously Sirius couldn't and as a werewolf, Harry really didn't understand but he accepted that Remus would have been in trouble if he tried, but surely there were others? And the Shadows had been kind enough to check the Ministry for him and relate to him a few discrepancies in his case. Then they had wrapped around him tightly, lovingly, whispering that they would always be there. He thought perhaps that their presence was the only thing that had kept him from exploding. Fawkes presence in his mind had worked in the reverse then and he didn't know how it was possible but the phoenix song had just reminded him of everything that had gone wrong.

       So he sat under the tree, holding back his power, trying to calm himself, when everything seemed conspiring to make him angrier. Perhaps he should just go to the Room of Requirement or even the Chamber of Secrets and just attack anything. Maybe that would help with the frustration he felt.

       But no... He couldn't. Today he had been trapped, with the best intentions of course, by his friends. Ron had been reluctant since he wanted to watch the Quidditch game but had stayed as well and they were spread out around him studying, though Luna's text was sitting next to her upside down. Ginny was as close as she dared and he hadn't even been able to fake a wan smile for her. Hermione was a metre or so away with her books spread out around her, their pages weighed down by whatever was convenient, while Neville was beside Luna, chewing on the end of his quill. If Harry hadn't of been so angry he'd have been comforted and pleased by their actions.

       The Shadows were lazily playing in the dappled light cast by the sun through the leaves overhead. No one had noticed them yet except for him and occasionally he smiled at their antics but the smile always faded. Today he could not forget and could not lose the anger. There was nothing special about today yet somehow he couldn't shake the mood and the techniques he usually used to calm down were ineffective.

       Maybe it was because, in addition to the rage and almost hidden by it, there was a small scratchy feeling on the back of his neck; a feeling which didn't go away no matter how much he rubbed, the feeling of someone watching him. It hadn't been there all day. It had been there when he sat down and the others joined him. He'd irritably assumed it had been an overawed First Year but the feeling hadn't gone away and by now he'd have spotted an ikkle Firstie.

       Someone or something was watching him and while they were good enough to avoid being spotted, they were not good enough to suppress their presence so he could not feel them. And that was just another thing he was angry about.

===

       Draco sat in the Slytherin Common room. The Quidditch Game was on and most of his House was watching that which left him relatively alone.

       _Nothing_ was working out.

       His mother expected him to recruit his generation, but how could he do that if no one even spoke to him? Blaise and Millicent weren't the only two who regarded him with disdain. Most of the Seventh Years had laughed in his face when he'd approached them. "Draco, your father is dead, your power is gone. Deal with it," was about the nicest rejection he'd gotten and he'd been hard pressed not to simply slam them all into the wall.

       He was stronger than them. They didn't know it, but he was! Yet they continued to blindly follow the Serpent Lord. He supposed he really shouldn't be that surprised. HE had followed the man avidly and blindly for much of his school life, but then he had seen the truth. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out how to show them that truth. Every time he opened his mouth to hint, to guide, to suggest that Harry Potter wasn't all they thought he was, something clamped his jaws shut or made him say something inane. The one time he'd managed to get something out about the seemingly perfect Gryffindork, the student, a Fifth Year, had just looked at him like he was insane and agreed that, "Yes, Harry Potter was unusual, finishing his N.E.W.T.s at the end of his Fifth Year and now being enrolled in four Mastery's! Of course he was unusual."

       That had ended the conversation and Draco had retreated in confusion.

       For all his efforts, subtle of course, he'd only managed to convince some First and Second Year students that they should listen to him, and even that victory had been very short-lived when the Seventh Years had told the students something.

       With a growl, Draco created a small ball of power and let it hover in his hand. It was his signature yellow and he spun it slowly, looking into the depths. They would learn. They would ALL learn that they should have listened to him. He'd be magnanimous and forgive most but there were a few who would suffer.

       :Perhaps you will suffer,: There was a whispered voice and Draco looked around frantically, the power in this hand somehow hardening.

       Words his mother had spoken to him came unbidden to his mind. 'If you hear a voice Draco, do not think yourself insane. Look around for the speaker. Look up, look down, look everywhere. Look into the shadows and if it seems as if there is something there, do not hesitate, _kill it_. Cast the strongest Solaris charm you can for what we fight against can be as insubstantial as shadow but should never be treated as powerless. In this, there are no second chances so it is best to strike and to deal with the aftermath in the event that we are wrong.'

       He really hadn't known what she was talking about but as he looked around the Slytherin Common Room he began to understand. There was no one around but there were shadows and they did seem darker than they had any right to be. He brought his wand out and flicked it through the motions of a spell his mother had insisted he learn so completely that he knew he _could_ cast it in his sleep. "Solaris!" he said, voicing the words of the charm and allowing his full power to flow through him.

       The little ball of power in his hand blazed up like the sun and Draco expected to hear a hiss of pain or the patter of feet as whoever spoke retreated. He did not expect to hear the clap of applause.

       "Well done, young Malfoy, but while such a thing may inhibit one of my children, it has little effect on me."

       Draco let the light fade as he looked around. In the corner of the room there was a vampire, but not just any vampire, and he suppressed a shudder as he recognised the elder vampire, Xeoaph. This was the one his father had allied with and for a moment he felt a stab of anger. Why was this vampire alive when his father was dead?

       The vampire laughed, stepping forward. "The play of your emotions is amusing, young Malfoy, but I am not here to hurt you."

       Draco wasn't sure why he said what he said next; he was sure though that the vampire was not expecting it. "I don't think I meant it for you."

       Xeoaph's blue eyes opened wide before he flicked them around the common room as the light from Draco's spell faded. "Perhaps not," the elder vampire agreed, turning back towards the blond. "Perhaps you are more ready than I thought."

       The blond Slytherin knew exactly what the vampire was talking about. Perhaps he was more ready to fight Harry Potter, but even as Draco realised that he and the vampire saw the same enemy, something clamped down around him and he found himself unable to speak or even able to move in anything that could be taken as agreement. Echoing through his mind, he heard that blasted Potter's voice. "I don't mind that you remember what you've learned, but I really don't want you spreading it around. It would get too messy, you understand, and it really would be too easy for you!"

       Why that conniving, backstabbing, honourless Gryffindor! Here he was, in the presence of someone who would believe him, who knew, but Draco could not prove what he knew and was unable to speak a word of it.

       "I know the truth," he finally ground out. Truth was such a generic statement that it could apply to anything and it was the best he could do to let the vampire know he knew everything.

       "Or do you only think that you do?"

       Draco tried to scream but found the impulse denied. The vampire didn't believe him or thought that he was talking about something else.

       "I _know_ the truth," he said again, slowly, more forcefully. He really wanted to say 'I know the truth you know' but the final two words died in his throat and Draco could almost feel Potter's power tightening around his neck. It gave him something else to think about. There had to be some way of breaking the spell...

       "Ah youth," the vampire dismissed him. "I was hoping for more."

       Draco realised if he was going to say anything, then he had to go about it another way. "Given the problems you've had with the other youth, do you really want more?" No matter how much people had tried to keep the events of Potter's DADA practical quiet, there had been gossip and his mother was an expert at winnowing the truth from idle conversation.

       Xeoaph looked at him sharply and for an instant Draco thought the vampire would see Potter's spell, but then his blue eyes softened and he looked away again. "I suppose not," he murmured.

       "It can be troublesome, I know," Draco continued, not sure why he was speaking but feeling that he had to try. "But it will be brought low, eventually, if those who know the truth can see it."

       "Perhaps you do know the truth," Xeoaph murmured. "But I cannot help you yet. When you can speak, come and see me and then we can consider the truth properly."

       Draco nodded and he didn't even see the vampire leave. Perhaps things weren't working out the way he hoped they would, but he had something to focus on now. That pathetic Potter had put some sort of spell on him. It was time to remove it. First though he needed to know what type of spell it was and that required a trip to the library. Draco smiled, the voice completely forgotten as he began thinking which spell it was that Potter could have used.

===

       In his werewolf form, Remus watched the skirmish before him. He was loath to call it a battle, but he supposed that's what it really was. Most of the pack leaders had decided to try their luck to become the Pack Leader of the Isles and most of them were embroiled in the brawl. As a sign of goodwill, the Shadows had offered all the Werewolf Pack Leaders either Wolfsbane or the spell, but Fenrir had been derogatory and most of the others unconsciously perhaps had also shied away from the possibility of maintaining their mind.

       That was probably why Remus was one of the few just observing the brawl under the moonlight. Longtooth and Silverpelt were also watching, but they were older werewolves and possessed more cunning than the others. Why risk injury in a brawl when the winner took it all? Fenrir was predictably in his element and Lupin could see him, his long grey fur almost constantly moving, sliding in and out of the rest of them in the tussle, biting, clawing, ripping his way through the other pack leaders. Greyback fought dirty; he fought as an animal and Remus involuntarily shuddered at the thought of what the werewolves would become if he was their leader. He was efficient at clearing out the competition and several pack leaders had already surrendered.

       Not enough, though... and Remus calculated that they would be fighting this out for a few months yet. That probably wasn't a bad thing, all things considered. Pack Leader of the Isles was a position for life so they would need someone with stamina and the will to see things through. He did hope that Harry and Sirius would forgive him his absence. They should, but he missed them.

       With a snarl, Lupin leapt forward to bite and worry at the leg of one of the pack leaders who had fallen awkwardly near the edge of the brawl. He wasn't going to let himself be drawn into the fray until it settled down. There wasn't much point in fighting in a position where you could not see who had attacked and could not respond properly. Until it was thinned out more he would take his opportunities as they presented themselves. Some would call it cowardly to attack when they were down. Remus called it strategy. And he would need all the strategy he could get to win.

===

       Sturges stood back. He really wasn't sure if he should allow this, but he supposed this was probably the best time for experimentation. He had his Auror team with him and he had the Auror Apprentice Harry Potter with them. They had surrounded a wizarding property believed to be a stronghold of You-Know-Who. Calling it a stronghold was really not accurate. It was a house, a small house that had been set up in the nature of a manor. It had the sweeping cream gravel driveway lined by small trees, and the pillared coach port covering the front door. Bay windows flanked it, but they were dark as the curtains were drawn tight. It sounded grand. But it belonged to a wizarding family whose fortunes had not been going so well so the trees were not neatly trimmed and there were places where the gravel was almost gone. If it housed Death Eaters though, Sturges didn't care about any of that. All he cared about was the most efficient way to get in.

       They'd found this house using something the goblins have given them. It was similar to the scanning devices that monitored for underage magic, but it wasn't tied into a wand. It scanned for the signatures of magic. At the moment they could only scan a small area, but since they had found this house, it was enough to prove that the devices worked.

       Now there were three things holding them back on the large-scale roll out of them – one, man power; two, a lack of devices; and three, a lack of recording of magical signatures. Man power would remain a problem for a while, lack of the devices could be easily rectified and the recording of magical signatures was already being conducted. It would only be a matter of time before they had one of the Inner Circle of Death Eaters on file. Then they could track them all.

       Sturges shook his head. They were all problems for the future and for now, he had best focus on the present.

       Dumbledore had had a quiet word with him before they left the school and Sturges wasn't sure he wanted to obey the Headmaster. It wasn't that the suggestion was bad, no the suggestion was logical; it's just that it set such a bad precedent! Dumbledore, for all his titles was just not a member in the chain of command and to accede to his wishes was not something Sturges wanted to get into the habit of. With a regretful sigh the Auror Captain realised that he really didn't have much choice this time. He had to go with the suggestion of the old wizard. Well...he didn't have to, but now made the best sense because now was not a life and death battle. This would be the best time to really see what Harry could do in battle, to see what Harry's servants could do.

       Baross had not said much. Amelia had said more implying that the Shadows were merely spies but the smile Harry had given him when he had asked the young man what they could do spoke volumes. Somehow Sturges knew the Shadows were more than just spies for their master.

       As they had set up the cordon, Harry had said a little more. "Predominantly they spy for me," he'd started softly, speaking only loud enough that Sturges could hear. "But under the right circumstances, they can do a lot more. If you let me, I'll show you. But I warn you now, Captain, I can either capture them or kill them. You have to make a choice _before_ I start." Unbeknownst to Sturges the Shadows had grumbled and complained into their Master's head that they would not kill yet! They were being fully mysterious, but they were insistent that something had to happen before they would kill at their Master's command.

       There really wasn't that much choice in Sturges' mind. Capture. They needed the information and he'd said as much to the young Potter. Green eyes had flashed and the Auror Captain wasn't sure what had passed behind them, but they had settled into understanding. Sturges had spent some time with Harry since they'd inducted him as an Auror Apprentice. He was after all, one of his teachers for his Mastery in Defence Against The Dark Arts and what he had learned of the Boy-Who-Lived was that he was a complex person. It might have been regret that it was not death that would be inflicted upon the Death Eaters. Harry had more cause than anyone to want them dead, but he also understood strategy and he was obedient enough that while his personal inclination might be otherwise, he would submit to authority in this.

       Actually, Sturges wasn't quite sure what he was going to teach Harry for Defence Against the Dark Arts. The young man seemed to already know _everything_ , and know it in such an ingrained way. He knew the theory and more importantly he knew the practical and he knew it so well that he could improvise no matter what the situation was that they had hypothetically created for him. The Auror Captain wondered if his other Mastery teachers, those for Transfiguration, Charms and Care of Magical Creatures were also running into the same problems. It would look really bad if they awarded him his Mastery in less than a year!

       The signal interrupted his thoughts; everyone was in position and as far as the spies could tell, the Death Eaters were inside and unaware that they were surrounded. The anti-apparition and portkey wards were up and the house had been disconnected from the floo. Sturges turned to his Apprentice, "All right, Harry, you can begin, but remember we are here if you need back up."

       Green eyes smiled at him and Sturges could almost see the laughter, but Harry nodded with perfect obedience and took a few steps forward towards the house before he unexpectedly sat down. "Harry?"

       "It's all right," came the soft assurance. "I told you, I will show you what they can do." Accompanying his words was a flash of darkness and unconsciously Sturges' stepped back. He heard the "shing" of steel and he didn't know where or how Harry had gotten the blade but there was a sword resting across the young man's knees. Harry had one hand on the hilt and the other was extended palm pressed flat against the edge near the tip. Now the darkness seemed to surround Harry, almost hiding him completely in the night. The Auror captain couldn't look away and he knew that his squad was feeling the same.

       Silently, a thin line of darkness traced itself along the ground towards the house. At an undefined signal the line split into two and almost instantly it stretched to surround the house. Sturges' couldn't see the end of it, but he could see the shape and he knew it was now a perfect circle, the circumference of which should not include any of the Aurors. Was what Harry about to do that dangerous?

       "Wrap," this time he heard the soft command and watched with morbid fascination as the dark line extended, rippling along the ground to cover the house. If he could fly, the Auror Captain knew that all he would see from above now was a black circle on the ground with Aurors gathered around it. He tore his eyes from the House and glanced towards his second. Kingsley watched with the same rapt attention as the others. He may be a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but Sturges suddenly _knew_ that this was their first time as well truly seeing what their youngest member could do. He suppressed a shudder. Ancient power or not, it was creepy, almost like a lethifold and he wondered if a patronus would have any effect and if Harry would let them try.

       The young man was still just sitting there with the darkness wrapped around him. A wind ruffled his messy hair and fluttered the fabric of his robes, but he didn't notice. Instead his face bore a soft smile and the Auror Captain was startled at how peaceful it was. The most disconcerting thing was the silence. If they had done this the normal way, by now there would be the screams from the wounded and shouts from those still fighting. There would be the sounds some spells made and maybe the sound of fire. This was so quiet that Sturges could hear Kingsley's breathing; he could hear the faint noise of cicadas in the distance and he fancied he could hear the rustle of leaves in the garden beneath the shadow.

       Harry seemed to be holding the shadow in place for a long time and the Auror Captain wondered what it was doing. It was just another thing to ask Harry about. He doubted that the young man would be able to explain the magical mechanics of what was happening, but he could at least explain what was physically happening within the shadow.

       After what seemed an age, Sturges heard Harry whisper another command. "Hold and return."

       The darkness seemed to surge and ripple and then great rips appeared and disappeared as it moved. The boundary of the darkness did not change but within it seemed alive and almost trying to break free of whatever was holding it in place. That was only for a few moments before the shadow almost vanished, but Sturges had not blinked. He had seen it sink through the house they had cordoned off, going inside while the rest of it wrapped its way around the trees and fence and everything else that was around the house. The cream gravel driveway now looked like a black ribbon.

       Harry suddenly turned to him and the Auror captain wasn't the only one who resisted the urge to step back. The boy's famous green eyes were almost glowing and there was a small satisfied smile on his lips. "Would you like me to bring them out or do you wish to go in after them, Sir?"

       Sturges' blinked at the question, for a moment not comprehending what the Auror Apprentice could conceivably mean. Sure the darkness had been in place over the house for a while, but it couldn't possibly be that easy, could it? "We will go in," he heard himself say, before he shouted a few orders to the waiting Aurors as Harry stood up.

       "There is also a small cache of Dark..." Harry paused, frowning as his servants relayed the information. "Things," he said finally, "Dark things on the second floor that were in a safe. I've opened the safe, but haven't done anything with the items."

       The Auror Captain nodded. "Very good," he praised. "If you are unfamiliar with what they are, then sometimes even opening their place of concealment can be dangerous, but not touching is definitely the best answer. Depending on what is there we'll deal with them, or call in the Unspeakables to handle the items." Sturges gave Harry the explanation as members of his unit began charging in the door. If they had of been fighting, he would have been with them, in the first group, but charging into a house that had already been subdued didn't require his personal touch in leadership. And besides, someone owed it to the young man to give him a proper explanation. Kingsley had gone in his stead.

       They didn't have to wait long before the Aurors began frog marching out several people dressed in all too familiar black robes with white masks, though most of the masks were now pinned to their robes and were almost invisible under the ropes that were binding them.

       "Don't have the guts to kill us?" One of the Death Eater's shouted towards Sturges, but he knew the taunt was directed at Auror Apprentice Potter.

       "Don't have the orders," Harry shouted back, apparently unconcerned and Sturges smiled and nodded, ignoring the way the Aurors cuffed the Death Eater who had spoken.

       "Very good, Harry, though you can just ignore them," Sturges murmured, watching. There were quite a few Death Eaters being brought out and he hoped Amelia would forgive him for the paperwork. He rather thought she would. Filling out the paperwork that went with incarcerating criminals was far more favourable than filling out the paperwork that went with reporting injuries and deaths in the team. And they had done this without a mishap.

       "Thank you Harry, and very good work," Sturges said to his Apprentice. "Your efforts here have meant that no one has been injured and we have the chance to gain valuable information, and that's exactly what an Auror mission should be like, even if we did use somewhat unconventional tactics."

       "Heh," Harry laughed softly. "Thank you for the opportunity," he replied to the Auror Captain. "Not many would trust in unconventional tactics enough to give them a try."

       "Harry, when I signed you up as an Auror Apprentice, both Madam Bones and I took that signature seriously. We intend to give you the opportunity to fight to the best of your ability and so sometimes we will use unconventional tactics, while others we will go with a more traditional response. But at all times, we will consider you a skilled wizard and a resource to the DMLE and as much as you are willing, we will make use of that resource. All you need to do is let us know you are available and that's that. I don't care what the Order wants," Sturges said the last softly, but he knew the young man would hear the truth in his voice. "Both Madam Bones and I have been fighting this war long enough. Obviously, we don't want the Dark Lord to win, but we no longer care who gets the credit for ending it. The DMLE will go on either way." He was pleased to see the way Harry's eyes darkened slightly before the black haired wizard nodded in understanding. It wasn't just a polite nod, either. The Auror Captain could see that the boy really did truly understand what he was saying.

       "Call me, and I'll come. I take my signature seriously as well, and I don't wish to leave the Aurors undermanned." It was almost a ridiculous statement for an Apprentice to make and Sturges could really do nothing but grunt a reply. "The Order isn't a part of the chain of command," Harry added with a very small smile towards the Auror Captain whose face had gone from carefully neutral to a full smile in an instant at his words.

       It seemed not everyone was as enamoured of the Order as Dumbledore thought, and Sturges would be grateful to make use of that feeling. For now though he had that cache of Dark items to deal with and many, many prisoners to question.

===

       Voldemort slipped into Ollivander's shop. The wand maker had let him know that the wand was ready and the Dark Lord was very happy to have heard that. He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to use that wand, but he could feel that it was necessary. He'd come early since that was the quietest time and while he knew the wand maker would appreciate his discretion, he also didn't particularly wish to be found. It wasn't exactly common knowledge that he now used a wand of holly and that Harry bore one of yew and he wanted it to remain that way. The last thing either of them needed was someone looking into why that was.

       He had his own suspicions but it was something he could look into after this year was over. It didn't matter to him especially as he, like Harry, found it no longer necessary to use a wand unless they were doing particularly delicate work. Brute power work was best done without a wand since they were likely to overpower one. He _did_ find it amusing though, that the two of them were still paired with wands that contained feathers from Fawkes. He wondered what the phoenix thought of that or if it was a symbol of something else.

       No matter. That was a thought for another day.

       Ollivander brought out the wand on a small cushion. The oak had been polished smooth but somehow Voldemort could sense the weakness in the wood that wand maker had spoken off. He could also sense the feather that Harry had given him. It almost seemed asleep but its power thrummed clearly.

       "As directed I used the blood of all types of dragons, but I made a few extra additions; a little Ashwinder blood, a single drop of basilisk venom and two drops of blood from a Runespore's planner head and three from the dreamer but none from the critic."

       "Why the additions?"

       Silver eyes looked towards him. "Given your affiliations, they seemed appropriate and for some reason the wand didn't feel happy without them."

       Voldemort's red eyes narrowed as he looked at the wand. If he didn't know what was in the core he wouldn't have thought it anything special. It was well crafted but it looked like any other wand. It didn't call to him, it didn't whisper of magic to his senses. It didn't hum the way his wand did. Yet he still felt as if the wand was going to be necessary.

       Ollivander watched his reactions. "I wish to ask, but I'm not sure if you will deign to answer me."

       "It would depend on the question," the Dark Lord said softly.

       "Where did you get the feather?"

       Voldemort smiled. He had known that any question would be about the feather and with a flash of insight he decided to answer it truthfully. "It was given to me and yes, I am aware of exactly what it is."

       Ollivander tensed. He had tested the feather, he knew what it was and he had speculated that the Dark Lord knew what it was but to have him confirm it was not something he had thought possible.

       "And I can see your next question," Voldemort almost chuckled. "Did someone give it to me or did I get it from the owner?"

       The wand maker nodded.

       "I got it from a wizard," Voldemort said easily. Harry had been in wizard form when he had picked up the feather. "But they were very specific about where it came from and to be honest, despite the power I could feel from it, I did not quite believe it. Your surprise when I gave it to you confirmed it."

       "You understand this puts me in a very difficult position?"

       "I have no intention in interfering with your neutrality," Voldemort said.

       "Mr. Riddle, regardless of your intentions you have something you should not. I am neutral, I watch and I destroy things like this and then reprimand the originator for being so careless."

       The Dark Lord looked sharply at the wand but at that moment, it chose to give a little pulse of magic, almost as if it had been listening. To Voldemort the pulse felt like Harry though he could see that it just added to the confusion of the wand maker. He had felt it, but he still could not isolate who the feather had belonged to.

       "I would say the originator wants me to have this feather," the red eyed man said softly.

       "Their desires may not over-ride the rules."

       "So they may not give gifts to anyone they want to?"

       "It is not the act of gifting it is the act of possession."

       Voldemort laughed! "Even with all my power, do you really think I could hold a full-blood against their will?"

       "I think you'd try," Ollivander's silver eyes flashed dangerously and unconsciously he prepared to fight. Mr. Riddle had been far more forthcoming then he had believed possible but despite his best efforts and enhanced senses he could not feel the lie in the Dark Lord's voice or actions.

       "If I tried, I would die for the effort. I am not so arrogant as to think I am that powerful," Voldemort paused, gathering his thoughts. "You can believe me or not, that is your choice, Mr. Ollivander, but I know you can feel the truth in my words. I am like all wizards, I can lie but I find the truth serves me so much better." He pulled out a small pouch of galleons from a pocket in his robe and with his other hand he picked up the wand, holding it not to use but still in display. "I cannot hold one of your kind and I am not going to try to but if one offers me assistance, then I will not deny their efforts." The bag of money landed on the counter as the wand disappeared into one of the Dark Lord's pocket sleeves.

       Ollivander just watched. He hadn't requested payment for this wand. The payment of the core was enough but as the Dark Lord would not say no to help, he would not say no to galleons. "We are forbidden from interfering and there should be no physical traces of our presence. When I find them, and I _will_ find who has provided you with this feather, then they will be punished. If the wand is still in your possession, I cannot guarantee what the decision will be regarding it or your disposition."

       "We will see," Voldemort said as he turned to leave. "You have, as always, been most helpful Mr. Ollivander. I would bid you remember, your neutrality is not expected but is respected, even with your irritation over my possession of this particular feather. I bid you good day."

       The wand maker was silent for a moment before he nodded tersely. There wasn't much he could do. He had thought about substituting the feather with something else but the Dark Lord would have noticed. It was not really something he'd considered that strongly. He'd been more focused on trying to find out who the feather had come from. It was not anyone that he knew and the limited testing he'd done to try to determine their bloodline merely showed that it was not one he recognised. That wasn't too surprising really since he didn't spend that much time with his own kind. He would have to ask the council. One feather probably shouldn't make that much difference, but one individual could and that's what they would have to avoid.

       "I will remain neutral," Ollivander said to the Dark Lord, "Until I perceive a threat to my kind. I would not advise you to be that threat. You know me as a wand maker; you do not wish to know me in my other guise."

       A ghost of a smile traced its way over Voldemort's inhuman lips and for the rest of his life, Ollivander would wonder if the smile was in response to his statement or to the volley of attack spells that crashed through the glass window, half hitting the Dark Lord and the other half absorbed by Ollivander's store front shields.

       As Ollivander ducked behind his counter, the Dark Lord spun into the path of the second volley, his personal shield flaring as it absorbed the impacts. Even before Voldemort drew his wand to retaliate, shards of glass from the shattered window were banished towards the attackers. There were some cries of pain but nothing serious. It was almost incongruous when he walked out of Ollivander's shop and made sure to close the door behind him.

       "Well, well, well, the Aurors," Voldemort greeted his attackers with a rich theatrical voice. Most of them were still hidden behind what little cover there was in the Alley and there was of course, no one else visible. As red eyes altered to see magic, he could see that the shop fronts had reinforced their shields as much as possible and some even showed signs of hastily established barricades.

       "You are surrounded. Put your wand down and surrender."

       The Serpent Lord was impressed. Whoever the Aurors had chosen to speak was confident, their voice didn't quaver with fear and their tone held no hint of worry. They could not be sure of the outcome but they were apt at pretending. He stretched his senses. Ollivander was behind his counter and from the vague feeling Voldemort could sense from the wand maker, he had not known the Aurors were going to attack. There were several Aurors on Ollivander's roof as well as several on surrounding buildings as well as tucked into the door ways of every shop and into the nooks and crannies that defined the Alley. The entrance to Knockturn Alley was blocked as was Gringotts and the brick wall that lead to the Leaky Cauldron.

       He could feel the anti-apparition wards and he could see them already. Unlike the Azkaban wards they were not hidden as they had been rather hastily put up but they were strong and he could feel that the casters, four... no five wizards had worked together to raise the wards and they were holed up in Knockturn Alley, as far away as they could get. There was no chance he could knock them unconscious to down the wards, not unless he had gone through every other Auror here.

       They were waiting for his reply. He should be as eloquent as possible. He raised both long fingered white hands as if in surrender his wand still held loosely, a small smirk on his lips and before the Aurors could respond he began the battle. " _Avada Kedrava_!" The Aurors were under what cover there was, but he could see enough of them to kill them. They had him at a slight disadvantage with their first volleys of spells; they should not have stopped to chat.

       He gave the Aurors credit in their response time, or at least the Aurors on the roof since they replied to his casting almost before he'd finished it. Their curses didn't hit him as he'd run forward to engage those forces in the street, but they did cast very quickly. The street forces seemed strangely reluctant to fight him hand to hand and as yet another Auror scrambled out of his way, giving him the perfect opportunity to put an Avada Kedrava into the centre of their back, he understood why, when a jet of almost pure light shot down from above. Voldemort spun to counter it, forming his own power into a red light to throw back towards the rooftop Aurors.

       As powerful as he was, he still staggered under the blow as the combined power of the Aurors struck him. He couldn't distinguish the individual power signatures in the force but it was clear that they were doing their best not to underestimate him. The ground Aurors took advantage of his distraction and fired various curse and hexes and he bared his teeth as they hit his protes shield, weakening it. It appeared none of them had the guts to try Avada Kedrava on him yet. The serpent within hissed. :I'll deal with the ground rats,: Xatarass declared coming awake and materialising with stunning clarity.

       To the watching Aurors, it appeared as if the red robed Dark Lord was suddenly obscured as if by mist, and they found themselves squinting to bring him back into focus. Then they noticed the coils and instinctively their eyes began following them, around and around You-Know-Who's form. Those who were lucky followed the coils to the tail. Those who were unlucky followed the coils to the head, and the baleful yellow eyes of a Basilisk, and for one who was even more unlucky, those yellow eyes were the last thing they ever saw. Xatarass hissed and struck, uncoiling like a spring to extend towards the Aurors before coiling back around the Dark Lord.

       Even as Voldemort poured power into the red light he was trying to determine what charm or curse or spell the Aurors were using. It was _almost_ like the time with his beloved when they had caught each other in their spell fire, causing the prior incanti of their brother wands but it was different. There was no spell formed barrier for one and the force generated by the Aurors was coming from many wands. In a stray thought he wondered if their wands were as hot as his? He could feel the phoenix feather heating up as he channelled his power through it.

       "Cutting charms!" He heard the call and knew it was directed towards Xatarass but he could not spare any power for the Basilisk. After all his japes and complaints and mocking, not to mention the attacks his forces had been carrying out on a daily basis, it appeared the Ministry was finally taking him seriously and they had brought an impressive array of power to bear. He couldn't sense anyone from the Order of the Phoenix or any vampires or other races so it seemed that this was just the Ministry who were at least pretending to be what they should be. He grinned, and poured more power into his counter charm.

       Xatarass twisted and turned and avoided most of the cutting charms directed towards him. He could hear the curses from the Aurors and smell their fear as he spun around the Dark Lord. He'd gotten one with his teeth earlier and the others were being more careful now. They were staying out of range of his attacks and they had all drawn veils across their eyes. He had paralysed a few but had been unable to bite them. The gauze around their heads had flared and burnt away but it protected them from death. He had a few nicks and cuts from their charms and so far none of them had even attempted to conjure a rooster, not that a conjured one would do any good, only a real one was fatal to him.

       There was an odd cracking sound and Xatarass hissed as a whip wrapped itself around his neck and was very quickly pulled taut, holding him in place! "There's only one way to deal with a snake," one of the Aurors shouted, "Cut off its head!" They renewed the barrage of cutting charms and as Xatarass desperately flicked his tail at the charms trying to block them as he struggled against the magically reinforced rope of the whip, he knew he wasn't going to break free in time and took the only course available to him. There was a flare of darkness and the rope fell to the ground as the great Serpent disappeared back into the body of the Dark Lord.

       The charms crashed into one of the buildings and there was a great puff of dust and debris which obscured everything. There was a sizzle and the smell of burning as the dust encountered the two energy streams. For the moment the Aurors didn't care and after a shouted command they began casting charms at the Dark Lord who was still struggling against the power their fellows had generated.

       For his part, Voldemort grunted as the Aurors charms hit home, some getting through his quickly weakening shield charm. He was still using all of his power against the roof top Aurors who were pouring everything they had into the spell. He almost wished he'd brought some guards but nothing could be changed now. He strained and renewed his protes shield as several charms impacted his body, but that was all he could spare for that. He was thankful that on the whole the Aurors were loath to use Avada Kedrava.

       In hindsight, while he was invested in the spell borne struggle against the roof top Aurors, he should have been paying more attention to the ground ones. They had been content to cast at him from a distance and he didn't feel the Auror who had been creeping through the available cover coming around on his right side. It wasn't until pain blossomed in his chest that he realised they were there.

       Instinct took over at that point and Voldemort spun, stepping back and to his left, breaking the spell connection with the roof top Aurors even as he dodged the beam he had been holding off. His attacker was not so lucky and they stumbled forward into the spell. The Aurors scream was brief as the spell slammed into him, burning through the protections on all Auror robes in an instant before it cut through his body. As the Dark Lord's right arm lowered, he felt the press of the dagger as it cut through his robes into his bicep. He could feel his robes sticking to his side as his blood seeped into them and some dripped thickly to the ground. His right hand went to the daggers hilt, wrapping around it to hold the blade steady to avoid further damage. He hissed in pain, before his left hand reached out, fingers extended as if the grasp an object that was not there. He ignored the spells the Aurors were raining down upon him as he forced his eyes to focus on the wards again. The anti-apparition wards were easily spotted and there was nothing in the way of his usual finesse or subtlety as he grabbed at them with a magical hand, ripping them into shreds before he apparated away.

===

 

 


	28. Understand What You Can

Weapon   
Chapter 28 Understand What You Can

===

       In the depths of the Dark Lord's stronghold it was cold. Most people might expect it to be warm to keep the serpents happy, but the snakes did not come here. The lowest levels, with no windows, were dank and cold and belonged to the Dementors. Ice ran over the walls, reinforced by the Dementors' presence and melted by the warm bodies of the wizards they had here. It was not silent here. Screams were infrequent, but there was a constant tone of painful moans and agonised groans. The drip of water and the soft passage of the wind through the corridors were score of this place.

       It was also dark. The Dementors had no need of light. They had eyes, but they did not rely upon them and so the only light that penetrated into their place was the fitfully burning torch at the top of the stairs that lead down to their level. And its light didn't stretch far, a dozen steps perhaps, steps that got icier with each decent.

       The Dementors had been very pleased when the Dark Lord had merely flipped one hand and said the place was theirs if they wanted it. They had the run of the castle, and a few patrolled through the dungeons and the upper levels, but most remained with the prisoners they had, the ones being turned into Dementors. Their souls had been removed at Azkaban before they were transported here where a tiny piece of a soul, any soul, had been given back to their bodies. At present, the bodies were being tortured and their minds striped of anything that might be remotely considered pleasant. They were also being fed only the barest minimum to support life and already most were emaciated beyond recognition.

       Despite the fact that it hadn't even been two months, some of the older Dementors thought that a few of their prisoners were ready to be born. Their magic, one of the only things still sustaining them, was already beginning to twist and turn. It was weak, but their magic was already producing the cold the Dementors were known for. Once that occurred, the prisoner would be separated from the others and two of the older Dementors would stay with them for the next few days, touching them, holding them, caressing them, letting their magical core _feel_ them, letting their hatred, their anger, run wild through what was left of their bodies. Their magical core absorbed the emotions and by exposure to the other like cores, those of the older Dementors, they changed, and in changing, altered what was left of the body. And once that was done, the little piece of soul that had been returned to the body, the one that allowed them to feel, the one that kept them mortal, kept them human was removed again and this time it was fed to the new formed Dementor as their first meal.

       The Shadows were very happy in the dark. The Dementors' activities did not bother them and the Dementors themselves were not troubled by the Shadows that watched on. The Muggle prisoners were spread amongst the wizards from Azkaban and so the Dementors were very attentive in making sure the bodies still twitched and shivered with the cold. They were fed slightly more than the wizards, but not much. Their lives were all that was important, nothing more.

       One Shadow dropped to the ground and seemed to spread over the four prisoners who were awake. They had just been returned from the chambers above and they were still twitching with the effects of the Cruiciatus curse and other hexes. They had the glassy-eyed stare of the lost and the Shadow radiated a sense of pleasure.

       :Dementor,: the Shadow whispered and three Dementors turned towards it.

       "Yes," one answered, its voice like the whisper of wind over snow.

       :Please gather the Muggle prisoners together,: the Shadow instructed.

       The Dementors nodded their understanding and turned away as they both sensed the change in the stronghold. Voldemort had returned above but there was something wrong. Several Dementors flowed passed the spluttering torch to find out what was different, even as the Shadow surged up into the pitch darkness near the ceiling where the sense of its presence faded entirely.

===

       Iavor continued working as he thought. He had been speaking a bit more freely at the pub after work and he had noticed a few patrons taking an interest in him or at least an interest in his information, but he didn't know if they were Death Eaters. He supposed that was the point. If everyone could tell they were Death Eaters then they wouldn't be very scary; lately though there had been a few odd orders. He'd processed them of course. He couldn't just ignore them but he had taken special note of what was being ordered and for whom. There were two things odd about the orders. The first was that they were orders for the goblins! The second was that they were orders for _parts_. Usually when the Ministry ordered something, it wasn't parts; it was the completed device.

       The ex-Hufflepuff student had thought about it for a while and had drawn the only conclusion he could. The Goblins were making something for the Ministry. And they were making a lot of them! It was hard to tell what it might be based on the orders Iavor had seen and since he wasn't the only worker in his Department, he doubted he'd seen every order. But since it wasn't for armour or potions he supposed it was some sort of device. If he allowed that to be true, then what skills did the goblins have, what could they make that the Ministry could not? Sure, Goblin crafted armour and weapons were considered superior, but the orders weren't for armour and weapon parts. It was odd, it was for crystals and some weird liquid and the weirdest thing was that it also included a heap of _muggle_ things. That was one of the reasons Iavor had noticed the orders in the first place.

       "You aren't going to believe this!" The shout reverberated around the office and most of the workers looked up to see a young witch rush into the room. "The Aurors just fought You-Know-Who in Diagon Alley!"

       "What?" Most of the room buzzed and got up so that they could ask further questions. Iavor remained where he was. What was the point? He already knew what the report would be and most of those buzzing around were just after gossip. The Aurors fought the Dark Lord in Diagon Alley, after a pitched battle, assuming You-Know-Who was alone, he apparated away. The way she had said it indicated it wasn't a battle, but while Iavor could feel the excitement he could also feel the fear.

       If the Dark Lord was in Daigon Alley, where else might he be? And of course the other implication was that the Dark Lord could fight off all the Aurors by _himself_! The fear was already setting in; the cold in the pit of the stomach, the tightness in the back of the throat and the shiver. They weren't feeling it yet, but soon, once the excitement and the fun of the gossip faded then the feeling would grow. People were so predictable.

       Iavor couldn't remember much of the first war, but he knew this time the Dark Lord was attacking openly. The fear of the unknown was not the same as before. It was different this time. Everyone knew the Dark Forces were there. They still didn't know whom were Death Eaters, but they knew they existed. That's why the true fear wouldn't set in until later.

       He listened to the witch as she went on about how many the Aurors had lost in the battle. Iavor looked up with a frown. While there were patrols of Diagon Alley and other places, how did they know that the Dark Lord was there? Was it an accident that he had been found? Had he attacked? Did the Aurors track him? While it was easy to track students and their wands, Iavor could not imagine the Dark Lord being so sloppy as to have a traceable wand... Nor could he imagine the Dark Lord being so sloppy as to be accidentally found which meant that Aurors were tracking or had a tip off.

       If it was a tip off then the Aurors had been lucky, but what if they were tracking?

       Iavor blinked as the pieces began falling into place in his mind. It might be a stretch but it explained things. The Aurors had not gotten lucky; they had found a way of tracking adult wizards and of course the main one they needed to track was the Dark Lord himself and they'd found him and died. And that would continue. That wasn't how it was meant to be! If the Ministry was allying with all the non-humans then they were meant to be the ones dying. The Ministry didn't have enough people... the wizarding world didn't have enough people to take the Dark Lord on head on. They'd proven that in the last major battle. Did no one in the Ministry besides himself remember history?

       He shuddered as his imagination provided him with scenes of carnage. The Ministry had found the Dark Lord's strong hold, and they had stormed it. The fine Aurors and everyone else who could fight gathered for the task. And they'd been defeated and in the castle corridors, which looked suspiciously like Hogwarts, the bodies lay strewn around almost carelessly. He could feel You-Know-Who holding court in the main hall, but in his mind Iavor could feel one more thing. Wizards were doomed. By the Ministry's action of attack and the Dark Lord's defence, they had killed too many.

       "All right you mob, back to work!" Iavor was brought out of his vision as their supervisor's supervisor stepped into the room. The wizard's eyes swept over the gossiping workers and for an instant their eyes met and Iavor was sure his position, still at his desk, was noted and approved of. As the others began to return to their desks, grumbling to themselves softly the wizard walked to the front of the room. He was holding something odd. It was sort of round and glowed faintly but there were some wires stuck into it at odd angles.

       "This is the news, so that you don't rely on gossip. This morning the Aurors faced off against You-Know-Who in Diagon Alley. It's not known why he was there, but inquiries are being made. There was a brief scuffle and seven Aurors were killed - God rest their souls - before You-Know-Who pulled down the anti apparation wards and escaped. The extent of his injuries is unknown but he _was_ injured.

       "Now I know what you are thinking. It's bad, seven Aurors are dead and he still escapes. Yes, the loss is not good, but this is just the beginning of this war. Make no mistake, it's regrettable, but there will be further losses. Today was an unexpected battle, the Order of the Phoenix, the Vampire Clans and the troops promised by the Goblins were not present, but today showed You-Know-Who that we are prepared and able to find and to fight him. Despite the fact that the Ministry's allies were not present, I want you to spread the word, today's battle, catching the Dark Lord unawares was the result of collaboration with the Goblins and a little trinket they made." The wizard held up the device he was holding. "This device detects magical signatures. At the moment they are only in key locations but soon they will be spread throughout the Isles and we will take the battle to the Dark Forces.

       "Today marked the beginning of the battle, but it also signals the inevitable end. While I'm sure the families of the Aurors who died today will not agree, in time they will see today's battle as the beginning of the end and they will acknowledge that the alliances the Ministry had made, are for the benefit of all wizards!

       "Now get back to work!"

       Iavor picked up his stamp again as the Supervisor stood still for a few minutes more, watching as the rest of them almost sullenly resumed stamping. His suspicions had just been confirmed. The Ministry would soon have the ability to track adult wizards and while that sounded great in battle situation, there were just a few things that had obviously not been considered or were being glossed over. Tracking was a gross invasion of privacy. Even the spells on underage witches and wizards didn't track them, but instead just monitored and reported in when something went wrong. The Ministry now had in its hands the ability to track every wizard all the time and as soon as the devices were created and deployed, he had no doubt that that was what they would do under the guise of finding and fighting the Dark Lord's forces... But after the war... would they really give up that power? Iavor was not so naive as to believe the answer would be yes.

       The other concern was with the numbers. If the Dark Lord had taken out seven Aurors today and he had been ambushed, how many more could he take out when he appeared prepared to fight? His vision of carnage was more accurate than he knew. The Ministry might very well defeat this Dark Lord but the cost would be everything.

       And once again the thought went through his mind. What can I do?

       And once again the answer was that joining the Dark Forces would only give them one more mediocre fighter. It was an option, just not a good one. Information would only go so far. He did not have access to the monitors' devices so that would do no good and he knew the Dark Lord would very quickly insinuate his own people into the monitors. That would take some time, and while the Ministry forces were taking advantage of their ability to track the Dark Forces, both sides would be weakening.

       :You need to tell them about the devices,: Iavor's mind whispered to him.

       He froze. There were two things wrong with that thought. Telling the Dark Forces point blank that something was happening was akin to joining. He wasn't averse to gossiping but he didn't think he was ready to actually join them. And no matter how much the Ministry might pretend otherwise, the Dark Forces were not stupid. They would very quickly know that the Ministry was tracking them. If he was going to gossip, it had to be about something else.

       :Don't tell them, write a letter,: his mind helpfully supplied the alternative to one of his problems.

       A letter was the same as telling them. A letter implied it was being sent and if ever found would be proof of his duplicity. Even if he wrote one though, and Iavor laughed internally at the thought of addressing such correspondence, what would he say?

       :Write a journal then. That's only going to be for yourself. You have to tell someone!:

       He did have to tell someone. This knowledge was already eating him and he'd been sitting here for half an hour! But if he was hypothetically trying to warn the Dark Forces what would he tell them? The first sentence was easy. The Ministry can track you. The second was elusive until he realised the blatantly obvious. If you knew someone could track you, you generally wanted to know _how_ they did it and if you were the Dark Forces you would want to know what components went into the tracking devices. Iavor didn't know all the components but hopefully he knew enough.

       He might be the only one who could see it but he knew that the Ministry and the Dark Forces could no longer continue weaken each other. The Ministry had already lost when they had signed all the treaties with the various non-humans while the Dark Forces had maintained true to their desires... and were closer to his. He'd serve the Ministry, but he was not going to be loyal. All he wanted was for wizards to be where they should, but fate seemed to be conspiring against him.

       :Conspire back,: his mind said cheekily.

       As he kept stamping the papers he smiled. When he thought things like that, he wondered how well he knew himself, but it was the truth. At school he'd watched the Slytherins. As a Hufflepuff, he'd had to as that was the only way of trying to remain safe. But one thing he had noticed was that they went after what they wanted. Not always obviously, they were serpents after all so they were sometimes rather roundabout in their attempts, but they were not afraid to try.

       Death awaited him if he was caught, but death awaited them all if he did not try. He might, like all witches and wizards, fear the Dark Lord, but in this, he could not be afraid to try.

===

       "I'm going to do it."

       Blaise looked up at the soft confession. There were a few of them in the Common Room but most of their House was out either enjoying the day or watching the last practice before Slythern's first Quidditch game. No matter the splits in their House and the war that was raging in the wizarding world, Quidditch went on. Apparently the team had decided that even if politics lead them to fight, they would suspend that battle within the Quidditch pitch. It would look odd to the rest of the school if they didn't so Slytherin still had a Quidditch team and they could still play Hufflepuff. Regardless, there were a few members of their House that had no interest in the sport and were using the time to study or for other things.

       The two of them were doing their homework in the Common Room. It was safer here than the Library. While they were somewhat outcast from their own house, no one would attack them here, but they were both waiting for the axe to fall.

       "Do you really think it will do any good?" he asked just as quietly.

       Millicent up looked through the gentle green light, tears forming in her eyes. "I don't know," she said. "But I can't stand it anymore. I have to try something!"

       Zabini sat back and closed his eyes. He knew what she meant. They had avoided Harry as much as they could this year though it was sometimes difficult given that they shared quite a few classes. He hadn't _done_ anything either. He hadn't glared, he hadn't given then sly glances, he hadn't spoken to either of them. It was almost as if he was content to forget, but neither of them believed that. That might be the Hufflepuff way, but it was not the Gryffindor way. He was waiting and they were caught up.

       He had been more patient than either of them had thought he could be and it appeared Millicent was at her limit.

       "What will you do?"

       "The only thing I can," she replied. "Apologise. If I have to I'll go down on my knees and beg."

       "How very Gryffindor of you."

       "Well what do you suggest?" She snapped, voice harsh with anger.

       It was Blaise's turn to look up through the light to the window. He was silent for a few moments before he frowned. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I really don't know. I know the Zabini Clan is hoping he will strike at me and forget the rest of them... Well, that's their last resort. They are hoping he will demand compensation first, but if I have to, I'll accept any punishment."

       "You got it easy. What's left of my family just made me outcast."

       "So you are trying to be accepted again?"

       "No," Millicent was firm. "They won't ever accept me back." She looked down at the floor, her eyes distant. "But I have to protect Magstine," she whispered.

       Blaise nodded. "If you are serious about this then I won't stop you, but don't expect him to accept it. Though to be honest, I don't think he'll go after Magstine since she didn't know."

       "I can't take that risk."

       "All right, when will you do it?"

       " The only time I can think of is Halloween when I might be able to get even a second of privacy."

       He sighed. "I wish you luck, Millicent. I really do and I hope it works."

       "But you don't think it will."

       "I don't know. Heh, we are meant to be Slytherin, able to read people, but I can't read him. I have no idea how he will react. He might accept it, he might not. I really just don't know."

       And that was the final word on the matter.

===

       Ginny looked up at the canopy. The other girls in her dorm were sleeping normally, but for some reason, tonight she couldn't sleep. Here she was living the dream of practically every girl of her generation and it was somehow... hollow.

       Harry was... Harry was nothing like she expected. He was attentive and he was always polite, but he was also distant. She could tell he was trying if not to love her, then to at least get to know her, but it was difficult. He was so _angry_ all the time. He hadn't snapped at her, but he had at almost everyone else. Last year, she would have taken that as a sign that he loved her. This year... she just didn't know.

       It didn't seem to be the separation from the Dark Lord. She was sure that was providing some frustration, but this seemed deeper. It seemed to be in every part of his being and there were times when even the Shadows seemed angry. She'd seen him once, just once in the Great Hall, looking at Dumbledore and it had taken her a moment to recognise the expression before Harry had schooled his features into something more normal. Contempt only _began_ to describe what she had seen. Loathing, hatred seemed too mild as well. The expression had been black, and while it was mostly directed at the Headmaster, there was a part of it directed elsewhere. She wasn't sure where. It had only been an instant, and Ginny had almost convinced herself that she hadn't seen it, except for the way Harry sat down that day and was lost in his memories.

       She had tried asking him what was wrong or how she could help, but Harry had never answered her. Sometimes he just deflected the conversation so skilfully she forgot her question until later. Other times he just ignored the question. It had to be something with the past. She frowned, thinking back to what she knew.

       She knew Harry had been raped last year. She knew that Harry's relatives had been captured by the Dark Forces and she knew, from hints and everything she had seen that they had not treated Harry very well... But Harry had gotten over that... Hadn't he?

       Ginny closed her eyes as she considered. How long did it take to get over things like that? Did you even get over them at all? No, you probably never 'got over them' but perhaps you grew accustomed... No... she was thinking about this all wrong. Even the words she was thinking seemed too lame, too easy to explain everything. Nothing seemed to encompass the gravity of the situation.

       Harry hadn't gotten over anything. He _might_ have come to terms with some of the things that had happened, but she doubted he had fully recovered... which was why... which was why sometimes he was so distant.

       So what could she do to help? Ignoring the situation wouldn't make it better and she knew that trying to make him talk would just drive him away. Perhaps she shouldn't try to make him talk but should instead talk to him about what was going on in Hogwarts, talk to him about the regular everyday things, the letters from her mother, that sort of thing. Maybe that would help and maybe that would help him see that she was still there and that she would always be there for him, no matter how distant he was. Maybe she should take him to Hogsmeade next weekend. It would be a normal thing for him to focus on. Maybe it would work and it would give him and her a chance to get to know each other better.

       Ginny sighed deeply. It probably wasn't enough, but it was all she could do at the moment. Harry was getting to know her and she was getting to know him better, replacing her preconceived notion of him with the reality. It was different and difficult, but it was for the best in the long run. In time, he would come to love her as she loved him.

===

       Harry smiled and waved the team off to the showers at the end of their practice. They were coming together as a Quidditch team, even the reserves, but they still needed more work and they probably wouldn't be completely ready by the time their first game came around just before Halloween. He was trying to make them ready of course, giving them more and more training, but the old Gryffindor team had had more than training behind them and to his somewhat experienced eye, the differences showed.

       He had a new-found appreciation for just how much effort Oliver had put into the team. As expected, Ginny was great as a Chaser, but she needed to learn to work better with the other two. Ron was okay as the Keeper and it was a trade-off between him and Oswald. Harry hadn't decided who'd be the Keeper for the first game, but he thought he'd overheard the two Gryffindors talking and in a moment of sheer unselfishness, Ron had agreed to toss for the game if neither was noticeably better than the other at that time. Harry had been impressed. Ron was growing up fast. He took a last lap around the pitch before Harry brought himself in close to the spectator boxes. Only a few people ever bothered to come and watch the practices and today Neville was one of them, but he hadn't left and was still sitting there quietly. With a small jump, Harry slid off his broom to land beside the other Sixth Year boy.

       "Neville," Harry said, when the brown haired boy didn't seem to notice his presence.

       Longbottom started and Harry smiled as his friend. "What's the matter?" he asked gently. He thought he knew but it was best to check.

       Neville looked up at him, brown eyes sad. "It's nothing," he said.

       Harry shook his head. "It is," he said in the same soft voice he'd used before. "It's troubling you so it is something. Can you tell me?"

       Neville looked down, almost as if ashamed. "You know how my parents are?"

       Harry nodded.

       "I thought... I guess I never really thought about it to be honest. I mean I knew why and how they were there and I never really thought..." The other boy trailed off.

       "Never really thought about what?" Harry prompted gently when it became obvious Neville was not going to continue.

       "I never really thought about the LeStranges and where they were. I knew they were in Azkaban and that was enough, but now... now they are out... And that..." Tears formed in the corner of Neville's eyes. "I'm scared, Harry," he whispered.

       Harry nodded. That made sense. If he didn't have the Shadows, if he didn't have the love of the Dark Lord then he would be afraid as well. His friends would help him as much as possible, he knew that, but there was only so much they could do. Ginny was doing her best, but he knew she was confused at times with his distance. She was trying, just as he was trying. They could be friends, but he already had a beloved. He wondered if Ginny would accept that in the end, but knew she probably wouldn't. And all of that did not help Neville. Of all of them, the young man probably had the most honest reaction and possibly the smartest reaction. He was scared and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

       He smiled understandingly at Neville. "Me, too," Harry said, running one hand though his hair.

       "No, you're not," Neville objected.

       "Yes, I am," Harry replied realising the truth. There was some fear in him, but not where most would think. Harry was not afraid of the Dark Lord or the battle; his fears were somewhat more exotic. "I'm very much afraid of what will happen to everyone if I fail."

       "That I can understand. I'm just afraid of stupid little things."

       "Such as?"

       Neville gulped, seeming to fight back his tears. "My parents don't even recognise me when I visit," he started. "But they are all I have and I love them. I don't want to lose them," Neville confessed, his voice trembling.

       Harry nodded sympathetically. He really wasn't sure what he should feel as obviously he'd never had parents or anyone he really thought of as a parent, though Sirius definitely came close. He wasn't sure though if he could handle seeing them, visit after visit, the way Neville did, but perhaps because Neville didn't know them any other way, he accepted that. He obviously still loved and would always love his parents. Almost without thinking about it, green eyes half closed as Harry considered the Dark Lord's knowledge. As expected Voldemort had a very good understanding of what the Cruciatus curse did both to the caster and to the victim. His knowledge also included a set of guidelines on how to condition witches and wizards using the curse, how long to hold them under it, what tone of voice to use when talking to them, what to offer certain types of people to get them to agree to follow you. Unsurprisingly, the memories Harry had from the Dark Lord were very thorough on this but while the Dark Lord could use the curse to gain quite a few outcomes, he had never deliberately tortured anyone into insanity. He knew, somewhat theoretically that it could be done, but he preferred to stop while the victim was still sane, to inflict other tortures, or even just to kill them. He was almost merciful in that way.

       What was of interest to Harry was the memory of what Voldemort thought would happen if someone was tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus. The curse affected the body and mind to inflict pain, but it mostly dealt with the body and after being subjected to extreme pain for a prolonged period, the mind reacted to protect itself. At least that's what the Dark Lord thought happened. The mind retreated into itself or maybe split itself so that it literally cut off the connections between the mind and the body so that no matter what was done to the body, the mind did not feel or comprehend that. A part of the mind remained or was formed to keep the body breathing and the heart beating but that was all which was why someone who had been tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus curse could be hit by it again and just lie there. The question then arose as to why the mind didn't come back after a period of time? Here his beloved speculated on two reasons and either could be valid... But Harry was in a position to confirm the theory.

       "Neville," he said tentatively, "Next time you visit your parents, if you don't mind, could I come?"

       Brown eyes stared almost incredulously at him. "Why would you want to do that?" He finally demanded.

       "Our parents were friends, Neville, so I feel it's the least I can do," Harry began, "and at the very least, I think I can put some extra warding up around them so that you will know if anyone goes to attack them."

       "What? _How_!"

       Harry smiled gently. "Neville, who's knowledge did I get stuffed into my brain?"

       Understanding dawned and Neville looked almost sheepish. "I forgot."

       "I didn't. I don't think I can do anything to help them," Harry said honestly. "Voldemort's knowledge isn't exactly strong on the healing arts, but he did know how to set wards and alarms, so I can do that much at least so if anyone does go near your parents, we can go to save them."

       "We?" Neville asked uncertainly.

       "We," Harry confirmed before he smiled. "You'd come to help me if I needed it, so of course I'll come to help you."

       Neville smiled up at him though it was still a bit weak.

       "We are all afraid," Harry said to the other young man softly. "Even I am afraid, but Neville, you are not the kind of man who lets fear stop him and that's what makes you brave. It's okay to be afraid, Neville. In this situation, I think it would be stupid not to be afraid, but so long as we don't let that fear rule us, then there is nothing to be ashamed of."

       "Thank you, Harry," Neville said and would have said more but for the sudden feeling of icy rage he caught from his black haired friend and the way Harry's eyes whipped passed him to focus on something behind him. It was probably a trick of the light but for an instant his green eyes seemed to burn red. Neville spun, a little belatedly and for a moment he saw nothing, but then, far in the distance he caught a flash of robes as someone moved through the trees. They emerged out of the trees, but were careful to remain in the deep shade and bowed towards them before they retreated back.

       "Xeoaph," Harry muttered.

       Neville frowned. He knew the name; almost everyone did now. Xeoaph Castile, Vampire Elder who had allied his clan with the Order of the Phoenix, and through the Order, with the Ministry. Over the past few weeks he'd heard the name said with varying degrees of awe and respect, but he'd never heard it said with such venom. "What is it?" he asked.

       The Boy-Who-Lived visibly collected himself before he sighed and turned to smile a small smile at Neville. "At least I know who's been watching me now," he said in a deliberately cheerful tone. The presence he'd found the other day had definitely been a vampire. So... the Shadows had said that Xeoaph still didn't trust him, but the vampire was prepared to act on that distrust and follow him around.

       "What do you mean?"

       "Xeoaph doesn't trust the fact that I've been initiated into the Order of the Phoenix He thinks that... I'm not actually sure what he thinks, but probably that the Dark Lord left some controls in my head."

       "Did he?"

       Neville asked the question so openly and with such honesty that Harry was forced to laugh. After a moment Neville realised his folly and joined in. "Even if he did," Harry said after a few moments, black hair still quivering a bit with mirth, "it was one of the first things Fawkes checked and one of the things I check for now that I can use his knowledge."

       "I know, Harry. It was a stupid question," Neville said depreciatingly.

       "No, it wasn't Neville. The obvious questions may seem stupid, but they are the most important questions and they are the ones you _should_ be asking rather than assuming the answers for." Harry blinked and seemed to assess his friend. "When you are ready, come and ask me the obvious questions, and I will answer you."

       Neville nodded, suddenly feeling very old, but he was also honoured at the depth of trust he could feel from Harry. He'd wondered in childhood what it would be like to be the Boy-Who-Lived, but suddenly he was very thankful he wasn't. Harry needed all the support he could get and Neville was suddenly ashamed to realise that he wasn't giving Harry all he could, but that Harry recognised this and forgave him because when the time came, the black haired young man was sure that his friends would come through for him.

       Harry watched the play of emotions on Neville's face. He was so open and honest that it was almost impossible to dislike him. While Longbottom wasn't ready yet to hear the truth, Harry was confident that he would understand and stand at his side. It was something he was thankful for. Neville was a better friend than any of them realised. The vampire though...

       The vampire was another matter and Harry couldn't even complain to Dumbledore. The old wizard would merely claim that the vampire was concerned for him and that it wasn't spying. He had unfortunately been kidnapped by the Dark Lord so it wasn't unreasonable to expect to have body guards, but Harry knew that whatever excuse the Headmaster cooked up, it was just that, an excuse. Dumbledore probably trusted him more than the vampire did, but that didn't really mean much. He was too used to distrusting everything, even while he acted like he trusted everyone. Harry sighed. For now there was nothing he could do.

===

       " _Merlin_! We _had him_!" Amelia raged in the privacy of her office. Despite the outcome, her Aurors had done a great job and she was not such a callous commander that she would add to their demoralisation with her anger. She wasn't angry at them, but she was _very_ frustrated.

       It had been a stroke of luck for them to detect the Dark Lord. They hadn't had the time to call in re-enforcements so they had done what they could and it had been close. She wasn't sure if she should be consoled by that or disappointed. The Unspeakables had suggested the group attack from the roof at short notice and if she was fair, it had worked exactly the way they said it would. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had seemingly used all his energy blocking it and that had allowed the ground forces to attack him.

       But _no one_ had expected him to be that strong. He'd been able to counter their attack and keep his protes shield up. With the amount of power they had put into the attack that should not have been possible. And by Merlin, where _exactly_ had that basilisk come from? You-Know-Who had an affinity with serpents, everyone knew that, but to be able to materialise a full grown thirty foot basilisk from nothing was ridiculous. No one and no instrument had been able to detect the summoning charm and the Unspeakables report was on her desk. They didn't know how he'd done it, but they speculated that the serpent had been with him the entire time, probably under a shrinking charm or less likely a disillusion charm. Those were the more normal reasons they offered. She'd read further to find their more exotic lines of speculation before she'd forcibly put down the report. Unknown summoning, symbiosis or power of Slytherin were not what she wanted to know about, not with eight Aurors dead.

       That was another thing that was annoying her. _No one_ thought that _eight_ Aurors _dead_ was a bad loss. They considered it a _good_ result because of the rushed training, and the rawness of most of the Auror Corps. The Dark Forces were attacking every day. The Aurors were striking back at what they could, but they didn't have the training and it showed. They were getting there. Official history said that Lucius' Rebellion meant that the Dark Forces could escape. Amelia knew the truth. Lucius' Rebellion was the reason they could still fight. And they used the time the Rebel Death Eater had given them to train and to cement alliances, but then in the first battle where they _clearly_ had the upper hand against the one being they absolutely had to defeat, he escapes and in his escape he kills the wizard acting as the focus for their assault and one of the witches who had raised the anti-apparition wards. Which said nothing about poor brave Curil.

       Amelia hoped his spirit was comforted by the fact he now ranked as one of the few wizards to ever score a hit on the Dark Lord and while there had been blood, she didn't want to hope too hard that Curil had done more damage than he had. It hurt, but it was best to assume that Curil had only scratched the Dark Lord. The dark wizard had moved easily enough after he'd been stabbed and he'd been hit on his right side. Unless he'd done something weird with his physiology then there was little chance that anything vital had been hit.

       The Head of the DMLE leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes as she breathed deeply. Despite her frustration and despite the losses, they had done well. The Goblin device worked and they had already ordered the parts for many, many more. The Unspeakables spell had also worked. And if they could get back up for the next time then the battle should be different, and there _would_ be a next time. She wasn't sure when, but she swore to herself that there would be one.

       The souls of the eight Aurors today would one day rest in peace, knowing that their sacrifice acted as the confirmation that victory was possible. She would see to that, one way or another.

===

       From one point of view it was probably an amusing sight, the sight of the Dark Lord sitting on his throne, reading the paper as if he was some regular wizard sitting at their breakfast table, but no one watching was laughing. He'd been somewhat pleased with the papers lately, but today a frown marred his features.

       The idiot reporter had finally had his article published and the Serpent Lord was pleased to see that there hadn't been that much editing. Those who were astute would see the truth, though he was honest enough to admit to himself that most wouldn't read the real story. And he had been surprisingly prideful when his beloved's N.E.W.T. results had been announced. While he had no doubt that Harry could have achieved those results on his own, had he been inclined to study, it was gratifying to know that it was _his_ knowledge that was so encompassing. Of course, he knew things to a far greater level than mere N.E.W.T.s but the results of such testing on the wizarding public could not be underestimated.

       Already they were coming to view Harry as their saviour and had placed on him the expectation that he _had_ to fight. If Harry had been more mercenarily inclined, he wondered what the Ministry would be prepared to pay? No matter; soon enough the Ministry and everything else would be bowing to him.

       Today though, the paper was running the risk of total annihilation. Of necessity they had reported the ambush in Diagon Alley and while he understood, even better than they did, the purpose of propaganda, it didn't mean he liked it when it was used against him. They had taken a spin emphasising the fact that he had been injured and the cut on his ribs throbbed with his annoyance and they had definitely downplayed the deaths. The report was annoying but necessary.

       What was _really_ angering him was the reports about the Goblins. The fact that he'd been caught in Diagon Alley was attributed to the Goblins though details were scarce. He would need better information about that, but that could be gained soon from his Ministry contacts. The implication was rather obvious though; the Goblins had decided to forgo neutrality. There was one comment from a goblin quoted and it was as cryptic as always "You do not short change us." He understood the meaning. The Goblins had taken offence to the Death Eaters' emptying of their vaults.

       That was more than frustrating; it was dangerous. He didn't have to pay the Death Eaters, but there were certain expenses he did meet and they were not going to go away. The Ministry had changed the laws so that convicted felons could not gain lawful access to their vaults until they had served their sentence. Nor could they sign over access to someone else unless that was done and approved by the Ministry. That took care of any dependents the felon may have. He almost wished the Ministry had tried to confiscate the vaults but they weren't that stupid. What it meant for him was that he was on a restricted cash flow and that could be fatal.

       Suddenly the Dark Lord smiled and resisted the urge to laugh.

       There was nothing wrong with this. He had wanted the Ministry to be smarter and stronger. When he'd risen to take it all, his victory was assured but was hollow. This time when his forces rose, it would be grand and with the Ministry having tried _everything_ to stop him, their defeat would be absolute.

       Besides, he'd broken into Gringotts once before in the weakling body of that insipid wizard, Quirrell. He could do it again and this time it would be far easier. No doubt the Goblins had improved their security but his strength was not the same. And this time he could take as many of his forces as he desired. No, the Goblins siding with the Ministry openly was not a disaster; it was just a set back and an opportunity. If they maintained neutrality he had been prepared to wait before he annihilated them. Since they had chosen to ally with the Ministry, he didn't have to wait before he indulged himself.

       No, the Goblins were not a problem... the real problem was hidden on page ten. It was just a single name on the wanted notification for one of his Death Eaters. By itself it wasn't unusual. The papers were expected to publish wanted notices. The problem with this one was that it was for one still recovering from Azkaban and the list of who had and had not survived was not something that was public knowledge. Only his Death Eaters knew about that... and that included Snape.

       Carefully the Dark Lord folded the paper before he rested his chin on one hand, thinking. He already knew how the information had been released. Snape would have told the Order and that reporter would have passed on some names. He _expected_ Severus to give the Order information because he also fed information back. The question, as always, was if Snape had chosen to support the Light. In the past he'd have dismissed the slip in information. It wasn't that important after all and it was possible they'd merely selected the name at random, not knowing if that particular Death Eater was alive or not.

       But something felt different. He wasn't sure what was different since the sense was elusive.

       :Summon him,: Xatarass said into his mind. :If he comes, he's loyal, if he doesn't, then you will know his choice.:

       :True,: Voldemort agreed with his inner serpent. :I don't believe I will see Snape again.:

       :Oh you will,: Xatarass disagreed. :He'll be covered in blood, begging for forgiveness, but you will see him again.:

       The Dark Lord smiled. Xatarass always did have a way with words.

       :And for the goblins?:

       :Exterminate them all,: the great basilisk said almost lazily.

       Red eyes closed, but the Dark Lord didn't laugh. He was suddenly tired and just for today he didn't feel like playing the game. He missed his mate, and the end of the year could not come fast enough for him.

===

       It was a beautiful autumn day and they were taking full advantage of it. With a little bit of wrangling the House Elves had provided them with a small picnic to eat under the trees near the lake. It was quiet and restful here and Hermione was almost sorry that they had to discuss something so ugly when it would be just so much nicer to rest, but she felt that with Halloween only days away that they needed to have this discussion now.

       Harry would join them soon, but there were one or two things she needed to say first. He had almost seemed to anticipate that when he said he needed to return a book to the library.

       Ron sighed. He wanted to watch this Quidditch game, but he was becoming resigned to the fact that the only games he'd see this year were the ones he played in. Somehow he could feel it. He wanted to see this one because it was Hufflepuff versus Slytherin and this was the only game Slytherin played before they were matched against Gryffindor in mid-December. The Slytherins had been trying to hide it, but Ron was apparently used to watching them because he could see the splits in their house. There were jabs and snide comments, and he was interested to see if they carried over to Quidditch or if they put that aside for the game. "What was so important that you dragged us here, Hermione?"

       "Harry is," she said. "We all know what happened last year and while nothing has been said, I think we _have_ to assume that something happened during his childhood."

       "He's always so _angry_ ," Ginny said.

       "I know," Hermione agreed. Neville, Luna and Ron just listened. "That's what I wanted to talk about. Even if I'm wrong and nothing happened at the Dursleys' there's still what happened last year. That's bad enough, but we also know that he didn't have a great childhood so that's going to make things more difficult."

       "Make what more difficult?" Neville asked softly.

       "Healing," Luna answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

       "Exactly. I have no idea what he's going through, and to be honest, I don't want to know," Hermione said, almost ashamed. "But he's going to be a _long_ time healing and we are going to have to be _really_ patient and supportive."

       They all looked to the ground at that. "And there is one more thing," Hermione whispered and her voice held a note of almost unfathomable sadness. She was almost afraid to speak the words. "Harry may never recover."

       Silence reigned.

       "He will," Luna said with a voice that rang of surety. "The Phoenix has already risen and all that remains is remembered pain and that will be shed when the cause returns to memory."

       "How very astute," Harry said as he walked up. He had another small basket of food with him and he sat down with a smile. "I'm sorry I've been so distant."

       "It's alright, Harry," Ginny was quick to reassure him as she made a space next to her.

       "No, it's not," he objected. "I should be stronger."

       "Harry," Hermione said looking at her friend with a soft smile. "I know I lecture a lot, but this is important. It will take a while for you to heal from what happened last year, but we will be here the entire time. If you are angry then that's okay, if you are sad then that's okay. We'll be here for you. And I know you don't like to ask for things Harry, but if there is something you need, then you _can_ ask us."

       Harry looked to the ground, chewing his sandwich slowly. Hermione had probably done all sorts of research over the summer about what people went through after they were raped. She would know what the usual procedure for healing was and she would try to help that along. She was a good friend. They were _all_ good friends because none of them had flinched from that truth and they were still willing to stand beside him. He hoped that they would not flinch from the real truth, but only time would tell for that. She didn't know about the Muggle paedophiles, but he knew Hermione probably suspected. She'd have to be blind otherwise and she was not blind.

       "What do you need?" she asked.

       "I need closure," Harry was surprised at the ease with which he answered. :I can see what my beloved is doing to those Muggles, but it's not enough and it's not what I really want.:

       "Is that all?" There was a _tiny_ note of disbelief in her voice and Harry knew his answer wasn't fitting her script. Well he could always answer truthfully. She wouldn't let it rest until he did. "What do you want?"

       "I want closure," Harry repeated. "I want justice," he added before he snarled. "I want _pain_. I want them to _hurt_ , I want them to know my pain and I want them to know what I suffered. I want them to _suffer_." Harry growled the last almost spitting the words. He felt the phoenix tattoo of Fawkes stir at his anger and the presence of the phoenix came to him briefly. Harry heard a small note of comfort from the firebird coupled with acceptance and understanding. Inwardly, he laughed. The phoenix understood so little and after a moment Harry's anger surged again driving Fawkes from him. The firebird thought it was his anger over the past, but Harry smiled internally. That was very interesting, but not something he could consider now.

       Luna just nodded, her face serene. Ron looked a bit startled, but after a moment his face settled into understanding. Striking back, revenge, was after all, a very Gryffindor thing and he understood that. He didn't understand everything, because he didn't understand Harry's Slytherin side's desire for truly returning the pain. Neville looked surprised, but he too quickly showed understanding. Hermione almost looked triumphant, as if she had been expecting the words, but like Ron she probably didn't understand the true extent. Ginny was the one who was out of place. She looked horrified.

       "No," Ginny breathed, pushing her red hair over one shoulder. "You don't, Harry. You would never want another to be in pain! You are stronger than that!"

       Green eyes bored into blue but Ginny didn't back down and inwardly Harry wondered how Ginny could read him so incorrectly after being around him for so long. Did she not understand human nature at all? The others at least knew it was natural for him to want to strike back; they accepted that as normal, even if they didn't understand exactly what he would do. She persisted in her delusions.

       He snorted in somewhat wry amusement. "Not yet I'm not. Not yet," he repeated, closing brilliant green eyes and flipping back to the grass, pulling his anger back. Now that Hermione had seen him rant, she would leave it be for a while. And it was probably a good thing to let his feelings out. He wasn't a saint. He was human. He hurt, he laughed, he bled and loved and _hated_. His friends would have to understand that if they were to come with him that he was only human and that for all the Order blathered about the Greater Good, his only interest was in protecting those he loved and destroying those he hated.

       For good or ill, that was _his_ greater good.

 

 


	29. Halloween

Weapon  
Chapter 29 Halloween

===

       So far Harry was having a good Halloween. He almost always enjoyed Halloween at Hogwarts. Well, except for the troll... the Chamber of Secrets being opened... Sirius attacking the Fat Lady... and the Goblet of Fire... Based on his memories, perhaps he should just skip the Feast and enjoy the day. Usually nothing bad happened during the day.

       But he was looking forward to the Feast. The House Elves made pumpkin pie today that was sickly sweet on the tongue with the first bite but which mellowed out into a smooth rich cinnamon spiced pumpkin that had a hint of maple. He usually didn't care what he ate; all the food the House Elves prepared was delicious but this pie was really good. It was one of the few dishes he looked forward to.

       So far today, he'd managed to get the Gryffindor Quidditch team out for a fly before they'd had breakfast. After that, most were left to their own devices for the day. A few were catching up on homework and Harry was enjoying the time off. The Aurors had said they would call him if anything happened, but after the battle in Diagon Alley, they didn't feel as if anything was going to happen today, which, if truth be told, had a _lot_ of people on edge. Halloween was a day of power for the Dark Lord so it was unusual for him not to be doing something. The Aurors were on alert, but that was all they could do for the moment.

       Harry was resisting the urge to reach out to his beloved and just find out if something was due to happen. If he did that then, while he trusted his acting, he may be that little bit unrealistic on the day when everyone was on edge and he didn't want to risk that. They'd had lunch then Ron and Hermione had disappeared to spend some time together, Neville had said that he needed to catch up on his correspondence and Luna was around somewhere. Ginny was watching him, and Harry would tell she wanted to ask him to go for a walk or something, but she was still a bit nervous after their talk the other day.

       It was a good thing she was not bothering him today. Despite the fact he was looking forward to the Feast, his anger had not abated from before and he recognised the truth that he really _did_ want them to suffer. Voldemort was doing his best, but Harry wanted to see their pain in person... he wanted... he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted beyond seeing them suffer, but his fingers itched. The Shadows had laughed at him, not mockingly but comfortingly, lovingly, as they wrapped around him softly. Today they formed _all_ his robes and the sensation of them against his skin, and swirling around him was as if he was held in a warm embrace. They were softer than the finest silks and stronger than dragon hide. He felt loved. Not the same as Voldemort's love, but love never the less.

       He was a little bit at a loose end today, almost as if he was waiting for something. :Go and see Draco?: the shadows suggested.

       Actually that wasn't a bad idea. He hadn't seen the Slytherin in a while and no doubt he would have some amusing insights. Almost without thinking he turned his steps towards the dungeons. The Slytherins wouldn't let him in, but Draco would come by at some stage. He just had to be patient.

       "Ha... Mr. Potter," the voice was female and vaguely familiar to him. It was surprised.

       The Shadows tightened around him as he turned in the narrow corridor he had been walking down. Green eyes widened slightly as he saw who was there. "Millicent," he whispered, his voice trembling.

       "What are you doi... No, it doesn't matter," she shook her head and as Harry watched, she fell to her knees on the stone, her hands reaching out and her head bowed. He could see the tears in her eyes, but he was not moved. "I'm... sorry," Millicent said, her voice a whisper but full of emotion.

       Harry just looked at her and as he looked, something snapped within him.

       "I know..." Millicent choked. "I know what I did was wrong... and I know it has caused you a lot of pain but please... I am _so_ sorry."

       When Harry remained silent, Millicent looked up and gasped. Emerald eyes burned into her and she wasn't even sure he was seeing her.

       " _Please_... It has cost me," she whispered looking back down at the stone. For an instant Harry had seemed as distant as the sun and as hard as the moon's clear white light. He had seemed to be more than human and while he hadn't moved, somehow she felt crushed beneath his power.

       Harry swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what Millicent was trying to do but the anger that had been simmering just beneath his conscious mind blazed to the fore, and before he thought he was moving.

       "It cost _you_?" he snarled as Millicent clawed at his arm. Harry didn't feel her weight as he held his fellow Sixth Year by her throat against the wall. He didn't notice how his animagus form had come forth slightly, forming claws on his fingertips. He didn't notice the way she struggled and kicked at him, he didn't notice the thin trail of blood that dripped from her lip, or the smear on the wall behind her head, he didn't notice anything but the red haze before his eyes and the burning anger in his soul.

       "It cost _you_?" He repeated, vaguely feeling Fawkes awaken within him and scream in frustration as the anger flattened the phoenix's presence. Fawkes tried to reinforce himself, but against that much emotion, even a phoenix wasn't strong enough. "What exactly do you _think_ it cost _me_?" he snarled and without thinking the Shadows wrapped around everything and Harry apparated, leaving the hall bursting with light.

===

       In the Headmaster's office Fawkes screamed and around him flame appeared. Dumbledore spun and no matter how surprised he was, he cast quickly dousing the fire that had spread out from the phoenix.

       "What's the matter?" the old wizard asked as the fire faded from the phoenix.

       :It's Harry,: Fawkes replied and Albus could see the firebird's agitation. :Something triggered his anger and ...:

       "And?" Dumbledore prompted.

       :And he just apparated through the wards.:

       "Where?"

       :I don't know.: The admission wasn't easy for the phoenix.

       Dumbledore closed his eyes as he thought. Fawkes had reported that Harry was still angry over the events of last year and of his childhood. It was something the old wizard understood and it was something he expected. It would have been nice if Harry had of recovered, but that would have been far too quick and far too easy so he had no choice but to accept that. The initiation into the Order of the Phoenix had shown that Harry understood adult emotion and while that was good, and while he did spend time with Miss Weasley, it appeared the young lady was not enough to dull his anger. It was most likely that the only thing that would dull his anger was time... or perhaps...

       "Let him go," Dumbledore heard himself say.

       : _What_?: Fawkes seemed outraged.

       "Let him go," Albus repeated. "He needs to do this. We can comfort him as much as want but that's not dealing with the anger. He's not ready to talk yet, but Fawkes, talking isn't the only way to deal with anger. Just make sure that he is safe, but otherwise leave him be. He'll probably go somewhere and destroy a few things, but knowing Harry it will just be some rocks or something. He needs to work the anger out of his system and since Voldemort doesn't appear to have plans for this Halloween, young Mr. Potter can't work out that anger by fighting him, so this is the best."

       :I don't like it. What if he comes across Death Eaters?:

       Dumbledore actually chuckled. "Then I feel _very_ sorry for the Death Eaters."

       Fawkes hopped distractedly, first gripping his perch with his left claw, then with his right. :I do not like it,: he said. :But I do not have much choice. I cannot track him through this much anger.: The phoenix seemed to shiver. Phoenixes were beings of light and the baser emotions drove them away.

       "Just let him know, we are here for him," Dumbledore added before he settled back to his desk, looking at the paperwork. There were so many details he had to oversee.

       Fawkes whistled slightly and the old wizard knew that was all the agreement he'd get from the phoenix on this. :I will let him know,: Fawkes said finally before spreading his wings and soaring out the open window.

       Dumbledore sighed and sat back for a moment. Fawkes was not happy, but his understanding of extreme human emotion was sometimes flawed. Harry would be better for this, more controlled and that could only benefit them. The small breach in security could be overlooked in the long run and because with this, the boy would trust them more when he remembered that they accepted his anger as a natural part of healing and that they had respected his privacy.

       Correctly controlled, this could be to their advantage.

===

       The Dark Lord frowned. There was something in the air, something he could feel. It was a day of power, but this was something beyond that and whether it would be good or ill he could not tell. Many of his forces were disappointed that he had not ordered an extraordinary attack today, but they were obedient and while they did not understand the reasons, they merely took the time to celebrate the holiday. He hadn't forgotten his prisoners either and before him there were several of Lucius's rebels in various states of pain. He was impressed with the former Azkaban prisoners' creativity when it came to torture, especially since the only thing he'd forbidden them to do was kill. Not that there were many of Lucius's forces alive still. The Dark Mark required blood sacrifice to apply so at the end of their pain there was death as the wizards swore loyalty to him.

       The last of those in Azkaban who were not already Death Eaters were swearing their loyalty to him today. Not all of them had, of course, and he'd killed a few. Most of the short-term prisoners were still locked up below though he was considering Imperioing them and letting them go. Lucius was in what had become his normal position of honour so that he could see everything. While the fish hooks had been effective, today tiny blades were driven into his flesh at each joint and some of his blood vessels had been brought to the surface and were being held there by thin slivers of metal which were hot with the magic of the room. Each of the vessels had been pierced so that blood dripped over Lucius. The wizard was silent but Voldemort could smell his pain.

       He was about to call a halt to the festivities when he saw it, a gathering darkness in the back of his throne room. The more sensitive of his forces also felt it and turned. Even Lucius looked over but it appeared for a moment as nothing more than a deep shadow.

       "Leave," Voldemort ordered pre-emptively.

       His forces turned their attention back to him and in that instant from the darkness a footfall was heard. Voldemort had actually never seen his beloved in this form but he could feel the power literally rolling off his precious Harry. He could also feel the anger and the rage. A girl he didn't recognise fell to the ground unconscious behind Harry as he stepped further into the room. Harry looked the very definition of a mage warrior. His hood was up, obscuring his features, magic seemed to ripple around him and there was a sense of barely controlled power coming from him. No weapons were visible and runes were embedded in the inky darkness of his robes. They glittered and vanished, shifting always such that no one could see what they were or how to counter them.

       "Leave," Voldemort ordered again. This time a few of the wizards got the message, though perhaps they were scared of the absolute power Harry was radiating. With a flick of his wand, the prisoners were returned to their cells. He would deal with any corpses later since it was obvious that Harry needed his attention _now_.

       The Dark Lord didn't even see his beloved draw the sword but there was a flash of steel and one of the slower wizards screamed in pain as they were cut. The thick coppery tang of fresh blood spread through the throne room, but Voldemort thought nothing of it as he rose and began walking towards Harry. The last of the wizards finally moved, a few of them attempting and failing to apparate before they ran as Harry continued to cut around him almost blindly.

       As the heavy doors thudded closed the Dark Lord spoke, softly, gently, letting his voice carry his concern and his love. He tried opening his mind to his beloved, but he could feel nothing but rage. "Harry?"

       Even beneath the cowl that hid his features Voldemort could feel Harry's eyes burning and a pulse of almost pure power pushed him backwards as the Shadows around Harry came alive. It felt like the time at Ollivander's and at the thought of the wand maker, his ribs ached and he allowed himself to be pushed back. The Shadows spread through the throne room and in their wake the Serpent Lord recognised the forms of the Muggles. They were left, impossibly strung up, but most were not aware of their situation due to the Legilimency the Dark Lord had performed weeks back upon them. The four who were aware hissed in pain but showed no other reaction.

       There was a final pulse of darkness and Voldemort was pushed back into his throne as the Muggles awoke. Silence reigned for just a moment before Harry screamed and flung his sword away with a clatter. He danced forward, his claws flashing as he slashed at the Muggles.

       The Dark Lord had seen many examples of violence. He'd participated in more than a few, but there was a certain raw power in the way Harry moved, a viciousness that few could match. He wasn't thinking and his hood had fallen back. His teeth were bared and his eyes seemed to be glowing as he cut through the Muggles. Power flowed off him in waves and the Dark Lord was forced to raise a shield. It wasn't like Harry's coming of age ceremony; the power was more controlled this time, but it was strong and it didn't care particularly who it attacked just so long as it caused pain. Voldemort nodded in understanding as he caught that feeling. He understood that pain and knew that for the moment all he could do was wait.

       Probably the most disturbing thing was the silence. Harry didn't voice his anger and the only sound was the pull of his claws through flesh and the blood as it splattered on the stone. The prisoners did scream out, but their voices were of no importance. Voldemort watched as Harry moved between the Muggles, spinning and turning even as he slashed around him and suddenly a smile graced the Dark Lord's face. Harry was _beautiful_! He was the most beautiful being Voldemort had _ever_ seen and he settled back, trying to ignore the growing tightness in his groin, to watch the exquisite dance his mate was showing him.

       Most of the wounds weren't that bad. Harry's claws were short, but every Muggle was sporting cuts and gashes all over their bodies and each had a small pool of blood forming beneath them. While it was hard to tell with the black robes Harry was wearing, it did not appear that a single drop of blood had landed on him. He spun and he danced and cut high and cut low and the throne room filled with the thick smell of blood.

       Finally one of the Muggles gave an odd gurgle and Harry spun to a stop in front of the throne, breathing hard. Voldemort could feel that the anger had lessened. It had not abated. It would take more than this to rid his mate of such anger, but the Boy-Who-Lived was calmer now. Slowly Harry rose and turned to look at the Muggles. One or two had died, but he didn't seem to notice that and Voldemort was left to wonder at the mysterious smile that graced his mate's features.

       Harry smiled as he breathed deeply. The scent of blood was most calming, but it still wasn't enough. These were the animals who had hurt him again and again and their suffering was not something he wanted to cut short. Even so, just slicing them up was too easy. But he remembered something that might be appropriate. He remembered the soul deep satisfaction he had felt after he had seen and taunted Heprah.

       :Beloved,: Harry said silently and was warmed by the sheer welcome and the depth of love he felt in Voldemort's mind. Harry sent a few images to the Dark Lord and Harry's smile spread to Voldemort's lips as he saw his beloved's plan. Harry waved his hand and all the Muggles were turned to face the throne. Another wave of his hand and from the blood under each Muggle a thin blade formed. Each blade was ornate and curved and in other circumstances might be called decorative. Each one rose and settled itself against the throat of the muggle whose blood had formed the knife. A thin trail of blood formed a string that ran down the back of each muggle before looping between their legs and tying itself around the tips of each of their penises. The only muggle not to have a knife at her throat was Petunia but she was turned towards Vernon and Dudley and her eyes could see the intent behind her nephew's gesture.

       Voldemort rose from his throne, shedding his outer robes as Harry simply stood and waited. There had to be a certain brutality in this and Harry didn't flinch when the Dark Lord transfigured the stone floor into a waist high bench and pushed him over it. A long fingered white hand grabbed at the neck of Harry's robes and the shadows pretended to tear when Voldemort ripped them away. :So beautiful,: he said privately, licking his lips.

       Several of the muggles groaned as they realised what was about to happen.

       As the Dark Lord exposed his beloved he flicked a finger in what probably looked like a caress but was really non-verbal wandless magic. It was a simple charm not spoken about or taught but one which was essential. Lubrication could be manually applied but magic was so much more convenient.

       :It needs a warming component,: Harry complained and Voldemort was hard pressed not to laugh at his beloved.

       :I'll add it next time,: he promised, even as he seemingly forced Harry's legs apart. Harry struggled a bit and one of Voldemort's long fingered hands grabbed his beloved wrists and pushed them into the bench above Harry's head. With his other hand he reached down and stroked himself to erection. The Muggles groaned and red eyes narrowed as he watched their reactions. Most were getting aroused but they were fighting it. If they got too erect the blood string around their cock would pull the blade across their throat. Harry did have a very refined sense of what was appropriate.

       Without preamble and as slowly as he could to give Harry time to try to loosen himself, Voldemort pushed himself into his beloved. He sighed in deep satisfaction and made small movements to try to make it a bit more comfortable for Harry.

       :It's okay,: Harry encouraged him. :It doesn't hurt.:

       :Don't lie to me,: Voldemort chided though he knew this was Harry's will. He moved slowly, enjoying the tightness and warmth of his beloved.

       :You'll have to say something,: Harry said, sharing the memory of Heprah with his beloved.

       The Serpent Lord smiled and licked his lips again before he looked up at his audience. "Beautiful, isn't he?" he questioned the Muggles. "Young, pretty, lithe, and tight," He punctuated each virtue with a thrust of his hips. "Though he does require just the hint of force to discipline him to your will, but once he's bound, you have a lovely creature that's ready to obey your desires and pleasure you. And now," the Dark Lord smiled again, "he obeys me," he added plunging his full length into Harry's body.

       It was too much for a couple of the muggles and their life blood sprayed over the others as the blood formed blades bit deep into their throats. Their erections faded as their bodies died and fell to the stone floor to lie discarded in their own blood and wastes.

       Harry arched his back as much as he could, which drove his butt on to the Dark Lord's cock and he lifted his head, turning to face his beloved. Voldemort leaned over and the two of them shared a long leisurely kiss as Harry moved his ass through little circles.

       "Harry, please," one of the Muggles begged.

       Harry broke away from their lingering kiss and turned green eyes towards the speaker. "So good," he moaned almost theatrically, squeezing and moving himself watching as the Muggle gulped and hardened and frowned, sweat pouring down his face as he fought the sensation.

       Voldemort licked along Harry's neck slowly before he lifted his body and grasped Harry's hips, holding him firmly and thrusting deeply. Harry arched backwards, his mouth open and gasping. "So good," he said again as the pain faded and he became accustomed to his lover's length and girth within him.

       More of the Muggles hissed and groaned and a few more lost the battle against their arousal, pushed beyond their limits by the obvious pleasure both the Dark Lord and Harry were experiencing. Blood spurted and splashed on the stone, though neither Voldemort nor Harry paid any attention to the Muggle deaths. They were too lost in pleasure of each other. They had only been a few months apart, but it was a few months too long for both of them.

       All too soon Voldemort felt himself tighten, his climax fast approaching. Harry's body was even sweeter than he remembered and as he felt himself cum he pulled Harry up to him, burying himself fully in the young body and taking his mouth forcefully. The pleasure was incredible and with each wave he plunged himself deeper into Harry.

       At length the Dark Lord pulled out of Harry, replete and satisfied for the moment. Harry moved with him, turning in his arms to kiss him again before he drew back, another smiled on his face. It was Harry's turn to lick his lips as he turned back to the remaining Muggles. "So good," Harry said again, reiterating his praise of previously, green eyes sparkling and happy. Nakedness hardly mattered, but the Shadows were quick to form around their Master again and he flicked his eyes over the survivors. Voldemort took a few steps back to his throne where he settled in again to watch. With a half thought the stone bench disappeared.

       Harry smiled at the Muggles and the Serpent Lord watched as he transformed slightly, emphasising his claws but not manifesting his wings. Harry flexed his fingers and Voldemort could see that his toes were scratching deep incisions into the stone floor. The Shadows moved the surviving Muggles, dropping them down to their knees in a line and the blades of blood splashed to the ground. Harry walked up to them, approaching the Dursleys' first. Almost gently he reached out and cupped Petunia's face, forcing her to look up at him.

       "Not enough for you," He said softly and she vanished. Harry ignored the way that Dudley and Vernon cried out as she disappeared and he took another step down the line, this time reaching out towards his cousin. It was no surprise to him that Dudley was still alive. The boy had never been that aroused by sex, instead Dudley got his pleasure from seeing Harry beaten and he wasn't about to submit to being pounded in that fashion, not even for the enjoyment of watching his cousin fight what was for him a normal reaction. As he looked into Dudley's eyes, Harry murmured the same words he had said to Petunia. "Not enough for you," and as with his aunt, Dudley vanished and Harry stepped forward to the next in the line.

       Harry reached out again, this time grasping at Vernon. The man was skin and bones and green eyes smiled as his claws cut thin lines under Vernon's chin. The older man squeezed his eyes shut. "Look at me Vernon," Harry ordered, his voice carrying a subtle compulsion. Almost unwillingly Vernon opened his eyes to look into Harry's green orbs. "It will never be enough for you," Harry whispered and Vernon too vanished. Harry stepped forward again and Voldemort vaguely recognised the man he knew had been the first, the one who had broached the idea to Vernon Dursley. Harry didn't bother to gently hold his face, but instead he slashed his claws down, opening deep gashes across the man's face but not killing. "And it will _never_ be enough for you," he said finally and the man vanished.

       That just left the other Muggles on their knees before Harry and the Dark Lord. Harry flexed his claws again and stepped to the closest. Voldemort watched as with deliberate slowness, his beloved reached out with razor sharp talons and ran two fingers from ear to ear of the Muggle. Blood sprayed out covering Harry, but he thought nothing of it as he stepped to the next one in the line and repeated the gesture. As Harry moved down the line of Muggles, cutting each throat, Voldemort noticed that instead of letting the bodies fall this time, the Shadows hoisted them up, letting them hang head down as the blood drained from them. There was no arcane value in Muggle blood so what were they playing at?

       Finally Harry came to the end of the line of Muggles. His hands and arms were red, his hair was almost flat with the blood soaked into it, and rivulets ran down over his face and none of that had seemed to have bothered him until the last Muggle twitched in the Shadows' grip, his life force splashing on to the stone. When there was no one left to kill, Harry seemed to come back to himself with a start. The Dark Lord felt it when the anger dissipated as if it was never there and emerald eyes looked back down the line of Muggles, seeing their nakedness, seeing the gaping wounds on each throat and hearing the blood drip on to the floor.

       A new wave of power pinned the Dark Lord to his throne and vanished the Muggle bodies, leaving only a seeming ocean of blood on the throne room floor. The Serpent Lord could do nothing but watch as his beloved fell to his hands and knees retching at the knowledge that he had killed. Harry's wings manifested, arching high and spreading above him but they were no longer the beautiful pure sparkling white that Voldemort remembered, they were instead deep jet ebony that seemed to suck the light out of the room. In all honestly, the Dark Lord couldn't say which he preferred. There was extreme beauty in both colours.

       Harry continued retching, choking and crying, all unaware of his surroundings. Voldemort smiled, the expression odd given the situation before he rose and walked towards his mate, crooning low in his throat. Quick strides brought him to Harry's side and he reached out, not even bothering to mutter scourgify as he cleaned the blood off his beloved and vanished the vomit. Harry showed little response when long fingered white hands touched him and the Dark Lord began tracing small circles at that spot between Harry's wings that he knew made his mate feel so good. All the while he continued a soft wordless croon. As Harry's trembling faded Voldemort picked him up, finding out that wings weren't as easy as he thought to tuck into his arms to carry his beloved bridal fashion. He never stopped stroking Harry, though once he had his beloved in his arms, his gestures were limited to gentle caresses against black feathers and Harry's thigh. Emerald eyes clouded as Harry relaxed slightly.

       "Shh, Harry," Voldemort said softly. "I told you, an eternity ago 'I will take you through the difficult times of the first few. I will lead you through such rites until you are whole.' And now that you are ready, I will give you your fill, but not now, not yet. Now you need to rest." He leaned down to kiss Harry's forehead before he apparated them out of the room to his personal chambers.

       Later, the Death Eaters would return to the Throne Room to find it empty of everything save for a huge puddle of blood and an incoherent Sixth Year girl sitting in the edge of the puddle, staring up at an message on the wall that was smeared there.

       " _This is what it cost me_."

===

       Voldemort sat in a comfy conjured chair and watched Harry sleep. The young man's hair was going everywhere and his wings took up more space than should be possible, but he was sleeping soundly with no tremors or nightmares or thoughts of what he'd just done. The Dark Lord would have lain with his mate, embracing him but he needed to think.

       Whenever anyone, light or dark, killed, they had to somehow justify it to themselves. If they didn't, they'd drive themselves crazy. For some it wasn't difficult, for others it required a lot of thought. As a Dark Lord he'd come to terms with killing a _long_ time ago and he barely thought about the lives he either directly took or those that through his actions he caused to die. Harry would not be able to accept his personal justification; 'they are lesser beings who should be honoured to die by my hand' was not something that would sit well with his beloved.

       He couldn't even impress upon Harry that the deaths had been self-defence. The Muggles had definitely deserved no less but how Harry now justified it to himself, how he accepted the fact that he had killed in cold blood that was something else. Perhaps though...

       Red eyes raked over Harry's form. He could suck him down Voldemort thought, internally cringing at the vampiric tone of his musing. He could pleasure Harry so much so that he was completely empty by the time he woke up and completely sated. It would leave the younger man feeling lethargic with satisfaction and would make him feel happy but it _could_ also completely alter his perception of his actions...

       No... The Dark Lord sighed after considering the idea a few moments longer. No matter how much fun that would be, it would not do for Harry to associate killing with sexual gratification. It would not be healthy and realistically for the future the Dark Lord wasn't sure he would have the stamina... He would have to help Harry come to terms with killing in another way.

       :Good,: the whisper was almost under his sharp hearing. :We would not have allowed that.:

       "I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"

       :No, this one is difficult for us as well.:

       Voldemort sighed. That the Muggles deserved to die was established. But when one cared about life as Harry did, how did you justify that to yourself? It was not combat, it was not self-defence. It was... Ah... That was it. It was _desire_. It was an expression of hatred.

       The Dark Lord looked over at his sleeping mate. Trust him to be complicated. Where usually one reason worked for him to justify killing, he rather thought Harry would require several and which one used would depend on the situation. Self-defence was easy. Combat was also fairly simple. Dumbledore could teach Harry those reasons. Desire though, that was something only the Dark Lord could teach. Most would think it wrong to kill because you desired it, Voldemort thought nothing of it. Killing was an expression of power and after those Muggles had hurt Harry so much, it was natural that Harry _desired_ to show his power over them. And he had, in the most vicious and final way possible.

       And that was how he would have to teach his beloved to accept killing this time...

       So first he would have to wait for Harry to wake up, then he could explain killing and how to justify it, and _then_ he could screw his beloved into the mattress... if he had time. The Dark Lord resisted the urge to growl. As always the consideration would be about time... So if he had the time now and did not wish to sleep yet, then he should begin to make some plans for the future.

       "Which of my Death Eaters do you trust the most?" Voldemort asked aloud. "Which of my Inner Circle," he added the clarification.

       :Dolohov,: the Shadows replied without hesitation. :He is wholly your creature.:

       "Good," The Dark Lord agreed before he reached out, feeling for Antonin's dark mark to summon the man to him. Some of the former Azkaban inmates were lodged in his stronghold and Dolohov was one so he responded to the summons quickly.

       Antonin had been planning a minor raid for the first full moon in November when he was summoned. Fenrir was busy fighting for ascendency, but there were other members of his pack who were more than willing to be herded in werewolf form to attack. The exact details would be worked out later, as the older Death Eater knew from experience when the Dark Lord summoned you, it was best to respond quickly.

       Like most of the Inner Circle, he had been admitted into the outer chambers of the Serpent Lord's chosen quarters. The initial room was rather odd. It was completely bare. Stone and timber inlaid the floor and the walls, but they were not in patterns, instead it was almost as if each was a sample. They were samples, Antonin realised as he looked around, realising that his Lord merely transfigured the raw materials in the outer chamber into whatever he wanted when he allowed people into it.

       The summons was repeated and the older Death Eater stared at the door. The Dark Lord _never_ allowed _anyone_ into the inner chambers. Those who did venture there did not leave alive. "Antonin," he heard his name called, and he could also hear the slightest note of exasperation. He stepped up to the door. "My Lord."

       "Come in, Antonin," the reply was immediate.

       Dolohov _knew_ he was one of the Serpent Lords most trusted Death Eaters. He _knew_ he had not failed his master. He _knew_ in his heart that he would follow Voldemort into hell itself, but he still gulped at the summons into the Dark Lord's most private chambers. He was controlled enough to suppress any tremors as he entered, stepping through the door but avoiding moving further into the room.

       Voldemort barely glanced at Antonin as he entered, but he was impressed and reassured. The man was suitably nervous at his invitation into one of his Master's most private chambers, but he was composed enough to hide that well and even through his nerves he was curious. His eyes moved discretely taking in everything, though they _did_ keep returning to Harry's wings.

       Dolohov was almost hyper aware as he entered the room. He saw things he would never have noticed otherwise. The door had seven locks and was the only entry. The carpet was thick and even with his stout boots he sank into it, almost as if walking in long grass. The room was large, but the bed dominated it though there were also two chairs before a large fire place. In the centre of the mantelpiece there was an old cup that called to him, but it vanished in shadow before he got a good look at it. Light seemed to be sourceless and scarce and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could not help but note that there was a winged something sleeping in the bed... Something his Lord was sitting in a third chair watching with an oddly fond gaze.

       "Come _in_ , Antonin," Voldemort repeated, gesturing vaguely to a spot near him. The implication was obvious and Dolohov moved as freely as he could to stand where indicated. As he moved he tried to make out what exactly was sleeping in the Dark Lord's bed... apparently with his full consent and knowledge given the way the red eyes were avidly watching the figure. At first whatever it was looked like nothing more than a blob of blackness but as Dolohov's brown eyes adjusted to the light he could see that there were feathers there. Many, many glossy black feathers arranged into absolutely _huge_ wings. He'd only ever seen wings that large on winged horses... or a Gryphon. But while his Lord had rather odd tastes and perhaps a serpent might have slept there, no other animal would. The bulk beneath those wings was not enough to be either animal... With a small start that he tried to suppress the old Death Eater realised the figure beneath those wings was human.

       "I'm assigning you a long term mission," Voldemort began before he watched Antonin with an indulgent smile. The Death Eater was paying attention to him but his attention kept wandering. He was discreet about it, but he was _very_ curious as to who was sleeping in the bed. In the past the Dark Lord had indulged his more carnal desires but never in his private chambers. The presence of someone in his bed either indicated _extreme_ favour or blood rite sacrifice and sacrifices were not allowed to sleep comfortably. Currently Harry was lying on his stomach, his wings obscuring most of his body and his head was resting on his arms, which partially hid his face.

       "My Lord," Dolohov replied, somewhat distracted. "What would be the mission?"

       "Acquisition."

       "Who or what, my Lord?"

       Voldemort nodded. Antonin was wise enough to realise the mission could be for either. "Potter," the Dark Lord said shortly. "I have expressed my interest in him often enough, and the fact that I do not wish him tortured or maimed but delivered unto me whole. The Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix expect him to fight and have spent the summer training him for this purpose. I'm informed they have taken him as an Auror Apprentice."

       Antonin frowned. "He will be a difficult acquisition, my Lord."

       "He will be," Voldemort agreed and then had to suppress a smile when Harry chose that moment to shift in his sleep, rolling slightly and moving one arm, which now gave Dolohov an unobscured view of his profile. The Serpent Lord saw the exact instant recognition dawned on his servant's face and was fascinated at the play of emotion. Usually the older Death Eater was collected, but his control was stretched as he tried to assimilate this knowledge.

       Surprise was evident of course, followed by confusion. There was a brief glimmer of understanding that was quickly drowned by bafflement. Resentment flared but just as the understanding had been drowned it too was suppressed, this time by clear bemusement.

       "Dolohov," the Dark Lord prompted as if he had not noticed anything amiss. He trusted Antonin but even those he trusted could make mistakes. So far, his reactions had been honest, but now that he knew, things could change.

       Visibly Dolohov gathered himself. With the barest flick of his eyes towards Harry, he addressed his Lord. "I understand some of this my Lord," he began, his voice firm. "But I would be arrogant to believe that I knew all."

       "Understand?"

       "I understand why your plans have called for such leniency against the Ministry at this time, my Lord."

       "And what don't you understand?"

       Dolohov blinked and unconsciously relaxed slightly. From his Lord's tone, he had passed some sort of test. After he'd been released from Azkaban and it was as if nothing had changed, he had thought his faith in his Lord was beyond testing, beyond doubt. In the instant he had recognised _Harry Potter_ , sleeping as calm as can be in his Lord's private chambers he had known his faith could still be tested. All sorts of theories had crossed his mind, most of them dealing with the thought that what he saw was not real but he had seen the soft look on his Lord's face and it was a look he last remembered gracing the face of a young Tom Riddle when he had looked up at the castle of Hogwarts. It was the exact same face and Antonin had known this was real, Harry Potter was really sleeping in the Dark Lord's bed and he had absolutely no idea how or why this had come to be. It would be best to be honest in answering his Lord's questions. Voldemort knew when he was lied to and attempting to speculate would only be wrong. "I do not understand how he can be here, my Lord or why he is here."

       Voldemort smiled. "It is a rather long story but suffice to say, I showed him the truth and in return he will give me the world."

       "Then I do not understand why you need him acquired... Wait," Dolohov absolved his own objection. "If the Ministry wants him to fight, others of your followers may fight back and they could hurt him."

       The Dark Lord smiled and Dolohov was amazed to see true amusement there. Around the chamber the shadows seemed to quiver in their own mirth. "No one could hurt him," Voldemort said. "If they do, they will find the pain redoubled. However, I _do wish_ you to acquire him so that no others seek to gain my favour by bringing him to me."

       "No matter his status with the Ministry, or his own ability, it would be an expensive raid but not impossible," Dolohov speculated. "What other restrictions are there my Lord?" He was beginning to come to the conclusion that the Dark Lord did not expect him to succeed in this order and he was finding it most novel that in all likelihood, failure would not be met with the Crucio curse.

       "His friends and family are not to be hurt or killed. There will be battles this year, so that cannot be guaranteed always but no raid by you may result in that."

       "I will need a team, my Lord," Antonin said.

       "I will ask Harry not to kill you," Voldemort said and the Death Eater's eyes flew to the young wizards face.

       The way his Master had said that, so matter of factly made reality all the more sharp. There was no question now that Potter _was_ capable of killing, something Dolohov would have doubted if the Dark Lord had not been so straight forward.

       "I cannot guarantee anyone else," the Serpent Lord continued, noticing but not caring for the revelations that Dolohov was experiencing. Each reaction merely confirmed to him that Antonin _was_ fit as one of his most trusted, possibly even the most trusted Death Eater. He could see now why the shadows were so confident that Dolohov was wholly his creature. They hadn't so much as peeped an objection to his plan. "And you are correct, my old friend. I do not really expect you to succeed in acquiring Harry, but you will be _very_ well rewarded should you succeed."

       Antonin nodded. "Severus would be a welcome addition to my team," he speculated, knowing that the Potion Master was currently not in favour.

       "Snape is mine."

       Both the Dark Lord and his follower turned at the sleepy voice that made the proclamation.

       "I don't recall giving him to you," Voldemort said as Dolohov stared at the green eyes which opened and blinked without the slightest trace of fear or discomfort. It was those eyes that convinced the tiny little part of his mind that was holding on to the belief that this was all an illusion that it was real.

       "Probably because I hadn't gotten around to asking for him yet," Harry replied, shifting slightly to lie on his side, one wing tucked under him, the other stretched behind him. The position not so incidentally gave him an unimpeded view of the Death Eater and left both hands free for casting.

       "Why Snape?" Voldemort asked, wondering if Harry knew exactly what he was asking for.

       "Regardless of his loyalties, he is too valuable a resource just to kill."

       "Humph! I can, or you could make any potion he can."

       "That is true, but at the moment neither of us have the time. And you do not have the creativity to invent new potions the way he does."

       Dolohov was stunned. Of all the conversations he thought he could be witness too between the Dark Lord and the Boy-Who-Lived, one where they were discussing the fate and skills of a Death Eater as _equals_ had not been on the list of possibilities. And they were as equals. He could not imagine how else the young Potter could raise objections to the Dark Lord's desires.

       Voldemort snarled softly at the truth of Harry's words. "I want him to suffer." The statement really was at the core of the issue. The price of betraying him was long established. If he let even Snape escape, no matter the reason, there were others of his forces, weak minded fools who now doubted the one moment of wisdom in their lives that had brought them to him. They too would run.

       Harry chuckled weakly, "I never said he couldn't suffer, just that he was mine."

       Dolohov's brown eyes blinked in confusion. To him that made no sense but he could see an almost amused understanding lighting his Lord's red eyes. "Put him on your team," the Dark Lord instructed, "though he will not remain there for long."

       "My Lord."

       "For the rest of your team, chose for expendability. I don't imagine Mr. Potter will take too kindly to attempts to capture him."

       "I don't imagine I will either," Harry murmured and while his voice sounded calm, Voldemort could feel that Harry was beginning to lose his composure as his memories returned.

       "We will continue this conversation when you bring your team list to me for approval," the Serpent Lord ordered the older Death Eater in clear dismissal.

       Dolohov was still curious and his curiosity was raising one hundred and one questions but he knew that to stay further would be to die and so with a smart salute he turned and left, making sure to close the door firmly behind him. The instant he was secure in the ante chamber he felt himself tremble. Blast it! He was not some wet behind the ears green recruit! He _knew_ his Lord. He knew what he was capable of... but then the unreality of what he had seen intruded upon his mind again. That had been _Harry Potter_ , the Dark Lord's _downfall_ sleeping in his bed, and talking to him as an equal, as someone who expected to get what they wanted.

       'He already has chosen to abandon you,' the memory of Lucius seemed to whisper in his ear but Dolohov shook his head. He had to remain clear and focused to solve this mystery. He could not let assumption and passion guide him.

       His Master had summoned him knowing full well that he would see Harry Potter there, because even if the boy had not awoken, his identity was clear. Would someone who had abandoned them let him see that? 'Of course he would,' part of Antonin's mind took on Lucius' voice as it argued with him. 'He's arrogant enough to believe he can get away with anything.'

       No, that wasn't quite right. Dolohov frowned, replaying the interaction between Potter and his Lord in his mind... Potter had ... he had _asked_ for Snape in the end... and his Lord had given him...

       Suddenly everything fell into place for the older Death Eater. Lucius had it wrong. He assumed that Potter had seduced the Dark Lord; he'd never considered the possibility that their Lord had seduced Potter. That is what Dolohov had seen, a Dark Lord secure in their power, giving a titbit to his pet. Malfoy was a _fool_. He'd used the _exact same_ tactic to woo Narcissa to his side, yet he could not see it when others used it. Dolohov and the other Death Eaters had watched then. Lucius had been angry he'd been betrothed to Narcissa. She was of the House of Black but far down in the inheritance and at the time she had been obsessed with Voldemort. Lucius had proclaimed he would not have a woman who would lie with him while thinking of someone else and since he had no choice but to marry her, he had then proceeded to seduce her. Voldemort's disinterest in taking a partner except for casual liaisons or to cause them pain at that time had probably helped, but Dolohov could remember Lucius giving Narcissa a jewelled pendant. The pendant had meant nothing to him, but it had meant the world to the blonde woman and from that moment on she'd seen her betrothed in a new manner.

       And that was what he had just witnessed. Snape meant nothing to his Lord. Oh the opportunity to torture him would be missed but to Voldemort the Potion Master was already dead. Potter had obviously wanted the man, so the gift, while insignificant to the Dark Lord was of considerable value to Potter and the fact that the Potion Master had been so easily given would only cement in Potter's mind the virtues of the Dark Lord.

       Dolohov chuckled weakly, taking deep breaths as he let himself calm down. Unconsciously perhaps he had been worried, his words in Azkaban had haunted him but his final statement had been the truth. His Lord was more focused now and Antonin looked forward to the day the Ministry and the Order realised that they had pinned their hopes on a dream that his Lord had already dreamt.

       In his chamber, Voldemort sat watching Harry as Dolohov let himself out. He continued to sit long after the door had swung closed and latched itself and Harry shifted to sit on the edge of the large bed. Silence hung between them for what seemed a very long time.

       "Well," Harry finally said. "I killed them."

       "You did," Voldemort agreed before he asked, "Do you know why you killed them?"

       Harry was silent again for a while. He closed his eyes, turning his face towards the ceiling. The gesture highlighted the smooth white skin of his throat and the Dark Lord imagined he could count Harry's pulse as he sat there.

       "Because I wanted to," came the reply eventually, softly spoken and carrying a load of regret.

       "Exactly," Voldemort said. "But that doesn't mean there was anything wrong with your desire."

       Green eyes flashed up at him, confused. "You wanted to kill them," Voldemort said. "I do not understand why you now feel ashamed."

       "Because they were human."

       "Were they?" There was no masking the scorn in the Dark Lord's voice. "I will grant, they had the forms of humans but where their actions human? They _raped_ you, many times. They raped who knows how many others. And if you gave them a chance, they would have done it again. Human? No. They were animals bound by twisted instinct, how else could we have killed a few by the mere act of coupling?"

       The Dark Lord leaned back, breathing deeply and more than a little ostentatiously as Harry watched him. He was on stage though his audience was one, the act still had to be perfect if it was to sink in. "There are many reasons, many justifications for killing Harry. Self-defence is one often heard and if true, it is one of the easier reasons to accept within one's self. Combat can be difficult but usually is accepted by the psyche."

       Harry hung on to the words as the Dark Lord mused about death. Unconsciously perhaps he knew that the red=eyed man knew far more about death and killing than he did. The knowledge was there, but it was clinical. This was something that made far more sense when explained, when you experienced it.

       "The acceptance of accidental death depends greatly on the person and of course there is the wilful, deliberate taking of life. The acceptance of that depends on your force of will, how much you wanted to take that life and how much you know it was your right to take it. And in this case, my Beloved, it was your right to take their lives."

       "No one has the rig..."

       "Stop right there!" Voldemort commanded. "Look within yourself. This is not about right or wrong. This is about _power_. This is about _desire_. This is about if you have the strength to take what you _want_. And so I will ask you this for the last time; did you want to kill them?"

       It was hard to tell what was going on behind Harry's Avada Kedrava green eyes and Voldemort had to resist the urge to reach out to comfort him, to hold him and to generally protect him from everything. This was important. It was possibly one of the most important things he would _ever_ help Harry with and it was one thing that Harry had to come to terms with himself. Before the year was over and even once it was gone, when they ruled, Harry would kill and while the Dark Lord knew that his beloved would never be as casual about killing as he was, the act itself could _not_ be something that incapacitated him.

       "Yes, I wanted to kill them."

       "Did you have the power to kill them?" The Dark Lord led Harry through the simple questions. Around him the shadows flickered, they were no doubt adding to the commentary, though it would not be in their usual lackadaisical way. He knew they could be very serious when they desired and he had no question that they were being solemn with what they were relaying to Harry now.

       "Yes, I had the power to kill them."

       "And did you desire to kill them?"

       "Yes, I desired to kill them," Harry said the last almost easily and Voldemort looked quizzically at him. "I should not have been that easy," he heard Harry add.

       Suddenly a flood gate of understanding opened within the Dark Lord and he found himself smirking. Harry wasn't upset that the Muggles were dead; he was upset that he had killed them but _not_ because of the death but because it had been too easy. "There was nothing more that could have been done," he said persuasively.

       "I know," Harry replied, shifting his wings slightly. "They were lucky. I will not grant such mercy to those who are still alive."

       The Dark Lord chuckled and reached out through their bond. _Now_ was the time to show Harry he was still loved, and that his killing of the Muggles had not lessened the love felt for him. If anything it had enhanced it. Harry wasn't faking his reaction. He was _now_ at peace with the thought that he had killed those Muggles, though he had not been earlier. The shadows and the Dark Lord's words and his own thoughts had coalesced to bring him that contentment and Voldemort could feel that Harry knew he would kill again but that the next time, the reasoning and justification to himself would be different. He would have to accept it then and forgive himself again. That though was for later. "Only my mate could out do me in viciousness, and I find myself content just to watch to see what you can do."

       Harry stood and stretched his wings out either side of him. The shadows hung around him and all he seemed to be was a black outline in the darkness with two glowing green eyes that watched everything. "Tell me your pleasure, my Lord."

       Voldemort laughed aloud. He remembered that question and he remembered his thoughts that went with it, though it was far too early to kill Lucius. He rose and moved to face Harry, two long fingers brushing under the boy's chin to raise the inhumanly beautiful face towards him. "Right now, my pleasure is you."

===

       It was after the feast and most had gone to bed, and while some had noticed an absence, most had just shrugged it off as inevitable given the night. Harry's friends knew better, though; they knew he should have been there.

       "Ginny, you know where Harry is, don't you?" Ron asked, hissing the question in an attempt to keep quiet. They were in the Common Room and there were still a few people awake. Luna was with them as the girls had arranged for a sleep over or some such. Ron wasn't entirely sure.

       His sister nodded at him in reply to his question, her eyes old.

       "Well, where is he?" Naturally it was Hermione who asked the direct question, not bothering to keep her voice down since she'd just cast every privacy charm she could think of.

       "I can't tell you."

       "Can't or won't?" Luna asked almost breathlessly.

       "A bit of both."

       "Why not?

       Ginny smiled at them all trying to soften her words but knowing that there was no other way to do this except being direct. "Because you don't trust him yet," she held up her hands to forestall the budding arguments she could see. "You can disagree, you can argue, but you must be prepared to allow Harry to follow the path he chooses, just as he will allow you. And then, it is only if you follow the path he has chosen, when you are certain in your hearts that you will side with Harry against the Ministry, against the Dark Lord, against the Order of the Phoenix, against anything, then you will fully trust."

       "Trust goes both ways."

       "It does," Ginny agreed, tossing red hair over her shoulder. "But there are some secrets that cannot be risked for anything less than absolute commitment."

       "And you are saying that Harry has secrets that sensitive?"

       "Harry is the only one who can fight the Dark Lord, so yes, he has secrets."

       "And you know what they are?"

       "I only know those he's allowed me to know."

       "Ginny..."

       "I'm not telling you and that's final," she said firmly.

       "How are we meant to trust him, knowing that he's got secrets like that, and from what you imply, we'd have be against everyone."

       "No," Ginny looked over at Hermione. Trust the 'brightest witch of her generation' to try to complicate things. "All you have to do is be certain in your hearts that you are on _Harry's_ side. Not the Ministry's, not Dumbledore's, not the Order of the Phoenix or the Dark Lord's or any other side. You have to be on _Harry's_ side. That's all, and he'll tell you everything."

       "But Harry's side is the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore and the Ministry."

       "Yes, he supports them," Ginny somehow got the words out, "But the sooner you start thinking of Harry as his own side, the easier it will be." With that she stepped out of the charms and walked up the stairs to her bed, leaving the others watching her as if she'd gone insane but somehow unable to shake the thought that she might very well be right.

===

       For all that Harry had been submissive with his question 'What is your pleasure' the Dark Lord had discovered there were times when his mate was not submissive at all. This is not to say that Harry had not enjoyed and enthusiastically participated with Voldemort, coupling with him after the question. It was just that now, several hours later the Dark Lord was writhing on his own bed almost incoherent with pleasure.

       He'd also discovered that his beloved _was_ a teenager, with an adolescent's drive and stamina. Not that he was objecting. He recognised the fact that they were equals but he would have liked to alternate positions. It wasn't as if Harry was simply taking his pleasure, he was more than generous in giving it. They had already gone several rounds, and both the serpent and wizard were feeling lethargic repletion. Harry though still seemed almost fresh and was content to drive their love making, giving the Dark Lord satisfaction even as he took his own in the slender white body.

       As Harry swallowed the Dark Lord's cock, he drove his fingers in at the same time. Voldemort's hands fisted in the bed sheets and he gasped brokenly, choking slightly at the intensity of the feeling. Both he and Harry had agreed to keep their minds separate for the moment simply because neither wanted to go through the pain of separation again when Harry left once more. At the end of the year, then they would couple completely, minds and bodies entwined as one. The absence of his beloved in his mind did not in any way lessen the pleasure he felt. Harry was almost inhumanly skilled. His mouth teased and his fingers probed. He'd already proven that he was a quick learner when he had duplicated the Dark Lord's wandless charm of earlier and even through the way Harry's tongue laved at him, tracing out each bulge and vein, almost dancing over his engorged length, Voldemort felt when Harry renewed it.

       The charm was simultaneous with Harry raising himself up, ignoring the sticky thread of saliva that trailed from his bottom lip before snapping as he wrapped his arms around Voldemort's torso and flipped them both over so that the Dark Lord straddled him. After a bit of squirming Harry sank himself into his beloved's body and rolled his hips through small circles, his eyes closed as he let his hands trace over Voldemort's back, tickling and stroking. Harry flexed his abdomen muscles, lifting himself up enough to let his wings manifest and brought them around to continue caressing white skin as he moved his hands to tweak and pinch at the Dark Lord's nipples. He was comfortable with his animagus form now and could slip between human and halfling almost without thought, though he did lie back carefully to avoid catching the feathers awkwardly. Harry avoided going further into his full form because that left him feeling too weak when he returned to corporeal form.

       Voldemort gasped, panting heavily. He almost seemed like an overly large rag doll the way his limbs seemed to have no strength. His eyes were open wide and there were so many sensations running through his body. His nerves were on fire but it was a fire of intoxication. He held back a scream when Harry lifted his head, showing his abdominal strength as he licked the sweat from white skin. The Dark Lord struggled and slowly he forced his knees to bend as he gathered his legs beneath him, still straddling Harry but now in a position to control his movement a little.

       Emerald eyes met his as Voldemort struggled to gain even a little control over their love making. He shuddered in anticipation at the look Harry directed towards him. The younger man had kept up his movement enticing a pleasurable glow in the Dark Lord with each inward thrust. A moment later the Dark Lord felt his head pulled down and Harry's lips were on his, his tongue licking, demanding, tasting and caressing. Voldemort needed air before Harry and he threw his head back, exposing his throat. Harry took advantage of that and bit into his beloved, sucking at the join between shoulder and neck. Last time the Dark Lord had marked him; this time he was returning the mark of ownership.

       "Harry," the Dark Lord gasped still panting as he moved his hips slowly. The friction between their bodies was keeping him erect though his cock was feeling abused and his balls ached. "Please," he whispered.

       Harry nodded at him, his mouth moving to bite and nip the Dark Lord's skin, heading towards one of his nipples. Once again he moved his arms to embrace his lover and he rolled them over again. Voldemort now lay beneath him and Harry placed his hands on either side of his lover's head. His wings arched and he could feel them brushing the top of the canopy of the bed as he levered himself up. He kept driving himself into Voldemort, making sure that each thrust hit the sweet spot. The motion between them brushed and rubbed the tip of the Dark Lord's cock that waved erect between them and Harry licked his lips as he bent down to slowly and sensuously kiss his lover. He knew Voldemort was mildly impressed with his stamina and even though he had been slipping between his halfling and human form, he was still reaching the limit of his sexual drive. He couldn't feel the Dark Lord's level of arousal but he knew he also had to be close to the edge.

       He slowed his thrusts savouring each movement. The Dark Lord kept panting and he raised his hands to hold Harry's face. He groaned as Harry ground his hips against his lover, rubbing his stomach against the Dark Lord's balls and cock. The effect was electric and with hissed groan Voldemort's hands tightened on Harry's face as he came, spurting between them in long slow waves.

       The Dark Lord swallowed, gulping in air as he fell from the pinnacle of pleasure. Harry leaned down, an exultant smile on his face as he gently licked along each of his lovers cheeks before he licked at Voldemort's lips, lightly sucking at his upper lip, demanding entry to his mouth. The Dark Lord moaned as he opened his mouth letting his tongue tangle with Harry's.

       Harry let his weight fall as he pushed powerfully into the warmth of the Dark Lord's body. His green eyes were clouded with lust and deep in his soul he felt complete. He was happy and while he was almost exhausted he had never thought he could feel this content. With a final couple of hard thrusts that left Voldemort gasping he came deep inside the Dark Lord. As he pumped cum into the hot passage, there was an exquisite sense of completion that pulsed through him. He'd felt it each time they had made love tonight but this was slightly different. This was complete satiation and Harry collapsed beside the Dark Lord, one arm draped over the white chest that was criss-crossed with his marks. Harry was breathing just as hard as Voldemort.

       As he gasped for air he waved his hand cleaning up the sticky mess that covered them and the sheets before he snuggled himself more comfortably into the Dark Lord's embrace. "I love you," Harry whispered.

       It scared Voldemort how much those words meant to him and how _easy_ Harry was with his emotions. It was not that he did not reciprocate the feeling just that the admission was one that tinged of weakness to him. He had discovered something rather surprising about being a Dark Lord though. It actually required, if you wished to be truly successful, a great deal of honesty with one's self. Dark Lords took what they wanted and for most that would be sufficient. For Voldemort, he had discovered that knowing _why_ he wanted something was almost as important as that something itself. He'd been blindsided once or twice by the whys and he did _not_ like to repeat his mistakes. In the past he'd have been content with just screwing Harry Potter into the mattress because that is what he wanted. Now he knew he wanted to because he loved his former enemy. But it was an affection he would only, could only show in private. :I love you... though next time a little less love would be nice,: he kept his mind voice light, though he knew Harry would feel the jest of his words and the satiated exhaustion that was weighing his limbs down.

       Harry laughed though his mirth drained into a bit of a cough as he fought for breath. :Something to remember me by, for the rest of the year,: he said.

       "Oh, so you weren't feeling guilty?"

       "About?"

       "Don't be coy. I saw what you did in that little raid. Which Auror Captain was it, hmm? Baross, Grakul, Sturges or Panrye? Or was it Bones?"

       "Ah," Harry nodded. "I've been assigned Sturges as a Commander."

       "A good man."

       "Yes. The Aurors do seem to be good."

       "The Aurors are good people for the most part," Voldemort said honestly. "If they ran the Ministry then things would have been very, very different. But they don't and they don't play politics, so they often don't even see the damage they can do. Is there any way my forces can fight what you did?" He asked openly.

       Both Harry and the Shadows laughed. The Shadows had been quiet while their Master joined with his mate, though they had enjoyed the feast their lovemaking gave them. :Can't you work them out for yourself?: The Shadows giggled the question. They were a little surprised the Dark Lord had waited as long as he had.

       "Everyone seems to try Solaris against them," Harry mused, referring to the Shadows. "The strongest Solaris even _Dumbledore_ could cast is like a candle compared to me, and if that is the case, do you really think such a simple spell will drive them back when they are infused with my power?"

       This was new information to Voldemort and he listened intently. Some habits, such as the thirst for knowledge were so deeply ingrained that they were hard to fight. "Why don't you instruct your forces to use something like Darkshale?"

       The Dark Lord frowned. "You want Death Eaters to use a spell of darkness against the Shadows?" That didn't make any sense.

       Harry chuckled. "You need to think about it a bit more," he said lightly. Red eyes narrowed in thought and combined with the earlier frown Harry was hard pressed not to kiss his beloved at the perplexed beauty he was showing. Idly he began fluttering his fingers over the white skin of the Dark Lord's abdomen, tracing out the muscle tone he could feel there.

       "Dark and Light are always fighting for dominance," he hissed slowly working his way to a conclusion Harry already knew. "But without Light Dark becomes meaningless, and the reverse is also true... You cannot have Light without Darkness to define it... But with Light there is also... Shadow..." Red eyes closed and Voldemort's features relaxed. "I don't believe it," he said in a tone that clearly indicated he could _not_ believe he had not made that connection sooner.

       "Don't expect it to be that effective," Harry said conversationally. "But it might allow a couple to escape. And if you need them, then they had better escape since it's only a matter of time before one of the Auror Captains orders me to kill that way."

       "You can kill?" Voldemort was surprised.

       :We can kill,: the Shadows purred.

       "I will have to start using my serpent forces more extensively then."

       :The Ministry is not yet that recovered,: the Shadows said. :They are holding on because you have given them time and because of their allies.:

       "Don't speak to me of their allies!" Voldemort hissed.

       "What has happened?" Harry asked worriedly. If there was something that wrong, he may have to give up the werewolves to his beloved. While it would not affect the final outcome, for the future, it could leave him personally short of man power.

       "The Goblins," the words were spat almost literally with venom coating them and Harry could feel Xatarass coming to the fore. "They have never sided with the Ministry in the past, I expected them to remain neutral. They didn't even shift when Grindlewald was attacking them so there should be no reason for them to side against me, but they have."

       "That doesn't seem like such a big problem," Harry said. "You've raided Gringotts before, you can raid them again... unless that is the reason they are supporting the Ministry?"

       Voldemort shook his head rolling on to his side, moving one leg over Harry's and allowing one of his arms to curl up around his beloved to stroke messy black hair comfortingly even as his other arm drew the slim body closer to him. "No. As far as I know, the Goblins still don't know that it was me who broke in. Raiding them isn't the issue. I'll empty every last vault if that's what I have to do. The issue is they have chosen to stand against me."

       "Fight back," Harry suggested almost stupidly.

       "I'd wipe them out tomorrow, but that would cost me too many of my forces," Voldemort replied. "Even if the werewolves join me tomorrow..." He looked speculative for a moment. "Which they might, considering how their leadership battle is going... wiping out the goblins would leave me too weakened. It's not just Gringotts, I could destroy that bank personally. It's all the little colonies."

       "Ah," Harry understood. "So you need a cheap method that will strike them all?"

       "And those are in short supply."

       Harry moved himself in the Dark Lord's embrace as he considered the problem. He slipped one arm under Voldemort's waist to embrace him and allowed his other arm to rest on one white hip. His legs he was content to leave remained twined with his lover's. "There is no one in the goblin forces you wish to spare?" he asked slowly.

       "None of them are that intelligent... But I forbid you from killing them all." Harry had just come to terms with killing Muggles who had hurt him terribly, Muggles who _deserved_ to die. He would not cope with killing an entire race. He probably would never be able to cope with that... not and remain who he was.

       "I wasn't even thinking that," Harry replied.

       Voldemort breathed a small sigh of relief. He could hear the truth in Harry's voice and the surprise that the Dark Lord had even considered that method. That more than anything convinced the red eyed wizard that Harry hadn't thought about using the Shadows to kill the goblins. :We could do it,: the Shadows whispered and the Dark Lord knew they spoke to him alone. :But you are correct, we would need the order and it would destroy him. We will have to do it if we are ordered but he won't,: they added the last with confidence.

       "So what were you thinking?"

       Harry frowned, and he looked so adorable that Voldemort almost wished he was not still feeling sated. "I was thinking," Harry began, "that if wizarding methods aren't going to work... then perhaps Muggle means would."

       The Dark Lord froze for an instant. He didn't know much about Muggles save that some of their weaponry was rather dangerous, even for a wizard of his calibre... What other weapons did they have though?

       "It was on the news once," Harry continued musing. "I don't remember it very well but there was something about a new type of flu that could kill..."

       The Dark Lord smiled, his heart swelling with pride as he understood the concept Harry was suggesting. It was perfect! It had been a while since there had been a serious epidemic in the wizarding world but they were not unheard of. Dragon Pox was still dangerous; wizards still died from it... All he had to do was find some disease that only goblins suffered from. And then he just needed to nudge it a little, make it stronger... He didn't even have to do that himself... There'd be a witch or wizard out there with the skills to do that... he just had to find them. Should he even have a change of heart, he could develop an antidote and keep it for those just in case incidents.

       :I do love you,: he said exuberantly into Harry's mind, hiding the true deadliness of his plans. Harry would know in due course but it might distress him now.

       Harry purred. "Of course you do," he replied cheekily.

       Voldemort chuckled. "Of course, no one else could keep it up."

       Harry burst into full blown laughter that was only muted when the Dark Lord took his mouth in a sweet slow kiss. " _Mine_ ," each whispered when they broke apart, voices soft and slurred with sleep and they both knew no more.

 

 


	30. It’s What You Don’t Know

Weapon  
Chapter 30 It’s What You Don’t Know

       The last thing Millicent remembered was struggling to breathe as a too strong Harry Potter held her against the wall. Ridiculously, her mind had rationalised his strength, thinking that Quidditch had done wonders for his physique. And then she’d awoken here.

       She’d smelt it before she had opened her eyes. The stench of blood had been smothering. It had coated her tongue and the back of her throat. It had been in her nostrils. And then she had opened her eyes

       A sea of red greeted her and that was all she remembered for a very long time. Gradually she became aware of the stickiness of her skin and she realised she was sitting on the edge of the sea and it had soaked into her robes, diffusing upwards the longer she sat there. Millicent had moved to try to get up and as she did she’d seen the words.

       It had taken her a moment to read them and then she had frozen, the taste of bile briefly fighting the slickness of the blood coating the back of her throat. Her words of earlier haunted her and she looked at the pool in front of her. It could not have come from one being; it was implied that this was Harry’s price. She stared for a long time, not really seeing the words and she wondered where or from whom the blood had come from. Millicent wasn’t aware when two Death Eaters entered the room, pausing as they saw her. She only vaguely heard the whispered conversation before they left again.

       If she’d had been asked what would bring her out of her reverie, she wouldn’t have known or thought it possible but eventually Millicent became aware of her hunger. At first it merely nibbled at her but as time continued to pass she became aware of the unladylike growling of her stomach and the dryness in her throat. The growing thirst was actually what forced her to look around but as she had already vaguely known there was nothing else in the room. Stone columns lined the room and dominating one end was the throne. It was stone and it did not look comfy but it was a place of power. She knew that and somehow the realisation that she was in the Dark Lord’s throne room came to her.

       Shock drowned her thirst for a short time but eventually the body’s functions re-established their dominance. She had no way of knowing where she was here and it never occurred to Millicent to wonder why Harry Potter had taken her to his enemy’s stronghold.

       Time passed and Millicent forced herself to get up ignoring the way her blood soaked robes clung to her skin. She tried the door to find it locked and slowly she moved around the edges of the room looking for another exit. They were smaller doors but as with the main entrance they were locked.

       She was trapped here.

       Millicent gulped trying to ignore the cloying sweetness in the back of her throat and she sat against the wall, sliding down it drawing her knees to her chest. She was cold, hungry, thirsty and needed to go to the loo. She knew where she was but she had no idea where it really was and she had no idea how to get out or how to let anyone know where she was. If she was at Hogwart’s then she’d be at the feast now her mind helpfully supplied and her stomach clung to her spine. Unsettled, she sobbed, tears tracking the way down her face and eventually tired, cold, hungry and scared Millicent fell asleep.

       She was awakened when she felt two presences enter the room via the soft pop of apparition. Instinct screamed at her and she shrank into herself trying to hide. The blood was still there and somehow it was still liquid, but the message on the wall was not present. The two figures had appeared on the dais, one dressed in black and the other in a deep red robe that was the colour of fresh blood. Against the darkened pool of blood the robes seemed overly bright. The red robed figure sat in the throne and while Millicent had never seen the Dark Lord she knew it was You-Know-Who. She watched with morbid fascination as he shared a long lazy kiss with the other person. She didn’t and had never had a boyfriend but she knew real affection when she saw it and surprisingly that made her relax slightly.

       Her edginess very quickly returned when both sets of eyes turned to her. You-Know-Who was sitting on his throne, his red eyes at an even height to Harry’s green as Harry had stepped down from the dais. Her class mate’s eyes were like emeralds, hard and distant and the sense of his presence was overwhelming. He stepped towards her and absurdly Millicent realised Harry had bare feet. He didn’t even seem to notice the blood and her eyes stretched wide when wings terrifyingly unfurled themselves from his back.

       The blood froze under his feet and she watched as the freeze spread impossibly fast through the blood, freezing the entire pool of the sticky stuff. Her robes had dried out slightly overnight but were still soaked in it and as she rose, they crunched as the ice crystals broke with the movement. Her wand was on her, but she knew if she drew it, it would be her death. The look in both sets of eyes told her that.

       “You have two choices.”

       Millicent started at the voice. She had not expected Harry to speak.

       “You can die here, or you can attempt to gain reprieve.”

       “What do you want?” She was surprised that she could speak, despite the sheer weight of power pressing down upon her. Her voice was raspy and her throat dry.

       “Information,” came the short reply.

       Information on what Draco, on what _all_ the Slytherin’s were doing, Millicent thought. Well, if they were dumb enough to let her know then they deserved to have her pass on what she knew.

       “You won’t hurt Magstine?” She heard herself ask and was shocked that even after all this she could still act in what could be seen as defiance.

       “Who is Magstine?”

       “My sister.”

       “Why would I hurt her?” There was genuine confusion in the tone and suddenly Millicent knew that even after everything, Harry was a far better wizard than she had any hope to be. For Slytherins, if you could not strike the one who caused you pain, it was common to strike at something they held dear... As Harry’s power pressed into her, Millicent realised that maybe she was wrong... maybe Harry had no thought to hurt her sister, because she had never been out of his reach. With the amount of power she could feel, so vast that it seemed unreal, there was probably no target that was out of his reach.

       “It doesn’t matter. I will give you all the information I can,” she whispered looking down at the floor and because she looked away she could do nothing but gasp when Harry loomed over her, his eyes spitting emerald fire. Agony blossomed through her chest and she blinked, not believing what she was seeing but unable to deny it. One of Harry’s hands disappeared through her robes into her bosom. There was no blood but her heart ached.

       Slowly he drew his hand back and she blinked, not understanding at all when the pain faded and there was no damage to her skin or to her robes.

       “My hand is around your heart,” Harry said softly, flexing his claw like fingers. “And if you so much as breathe a word of anything to anyone, then you can guess my response.” He smiled gently at her and Millicent’s hands flew to her chest as her heart twinged in reply to his power.

       “I won’t,” She gasped.

       “I know,” and with that reply the Sixth Year Boy reached out grasping her shoulder and apparated them both back to Hogwarts.

===

       When Harry got back to Hogwarts, he merely smiled at Millicent before walking off in the other direction. The Sixth Year girl staggered to her feet and slowly made her way to the Slytherin dorms to wash and sleep and Harry was reasonably sure that would be all he heard from her for a while. She may spy him up something good, she may not. Her reprieve, such as it was, was based more on timing than on forgiveness. She should enjoy this year because Harry was fairly certain, even if he did nothing, she was not going to enjoy the next.

       It took Fawkes all of thirty seconds to confirm that Harry was back in Hogwarts but the phoenix was not coherent and Harry actually paused as he listened to the fire bird. The phoenix had touched him right after he left but beyond making sure that Fawkes was not about to follow him, the black-haired boy hadn’t really cared _what_ the fire bird wanted. Yesterday Fawkes had simply told him to be careful and that when Harry was ready, they would all be there for him and then the sense of Fawkes’ presence had left him. At the time Harry hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared for much through the oppressive anger he’d felt but now he could appreciate it, just probably not in the way the fire bird had intended. After an initial burst of confusion, Fawkes faded from his mind. Harry suppressed a resigned sigh and turned towards the Headmaster’s Office.

       He managed to avoid most of the castle’s inhabitants by slipping through a couple of secret passages and when he reached the gargoyle it opened for him without even waiting for the password. As he rode the steps upward, Harry frowned and unconsciously he tensed. He could hear Dumbledore and Snape and there was a pitiful keening that was almost under his hearing. It left him feeling despair. He frowned at the imposed emotion and quickly Harry stepped into the Headmaster’s office before he was invited.

       The desk had been swept clear of everything and the contents, the usual papers and the few knick knacks were strewn on the floor, unheeded. Dumbledore was on the far side and the old wizard wore an expression of such utter desperation that Harry felt his heart contract. Snape, rather uncharacteristically had his back to the door but the green-eyed young man could tell that the Potion Master was just as worried. Lying on the desk, red feathers everywhere, was Fawkes. His breathing was laboured and Harry’s eyes widened incredulously as he realised that the fire bird was wounded. His wings fluttered and the phoenix thrashed slightly before the two wizards could calm him. Fawkes was a large bird but he didn’t take up the entire desk and lined up at one end was a series of small vials. Carefully Snape reached out one sure fingered hand to pick one out and brought it close. His other hand gently scooped Fawkes’ head up and the fire bird drank down the potion, making an almost human sound as the liquid caught in his throat before it was soothed by Dumbledore’s calming hands.

       “What _happened_?” Harry asked as he strode in, unsure what he should do but knowing that he had to see this.

       “Basilisk,” Dumbledore replied shortly and from Fawkes Harry got a flash of image. He didn’t recognise the serpent but it was _large_ , forty foot long at least.

       There was a welter of images and Harry got the impression of a fight where both serpent and phoenix did damage to the other. Harry frowned when he sorted out the end images. There were flashes of Shadow. “ _What_?” He demanded of Fawkes.

       The images were repeated and this time Harry knew what had happened. The phoenix and the basilisk had fought. Neither had been able to gain victory but since their battle had happened in the Forbidden Forest Fawkes had been able to summon help which had tipped the battle in his direction. The basilisk hadn’t retreated though. It hadn’t been able to retreat, yet, it had been rescued by darkness.

       Savagely, Harry reached out and dragged a Shadow to him. It squealed and for a moment Dumbledore and Snape paused in their work. “I _ordered_ you to _obey only me_!” Harry snarled at the Shadow.

       “We _do_ ,” the Shadow objected allowing its voice to be cast audibly. Silently other Shadows purred into Harry’s mind as they lapped up his light. :Xeloc thought that Fawkes was responsible for the death of Xir. We did not believe that either you or your mate would appreciate the shock of another death so we rescued Xeloc. Just pretend it was the Dark Lord’s Shadows and be _very_ harsh and it will be okay. Though,: they added almost speculatively. :You do taste great this way, Master.:

       “Then why did you help a _basilisk_ against Fawkes?” Harry demanded, seeming to glow. The Shadows had pretty much confirmed what he had thought had happened the moment he’d seen them in Fawkes memory. He was very impressed with Xeloc’s fighting ability. The larger and older serpent in the Chamber of Secret’s hadn’t done anywhere near this amount of damage to the fire bird.

       “It wasn’t us!” the Shadow replied desperately. “We are loyal Master, _loyal_.”

       “Who was it, then?”

       “Those who obey the Dark Lord,” the Shadow gasped, seemingly in pain as Harry allowed his aura to flare.

       “Bring them to me,” Harry ordered as he dropped the Shadow. “You are _my_ servants and you answer only to _one_ master. _Me_.” As he said that Harry took a deep breath, seeming to calm himself before he turned back towards the Headmaster’s desk. He studiously ignored the way that Dumbledore’s eyes glittered with extreme happiness. Snape was more restrained though he was also relieved. Had they really been that concerned about his will in controlling the Shadows?

       :Yes,: the Shadows chuckled at him. :You are their weapon, Master, but they are not sure you have the will to do what needs to be done.:

       “Fawkes, I’m sorry,” Harry said, accepting what the Shadows told him but ignoring it for now. He had gotten the anger part of this act right, but now he had to pull off caring, affection even for the fire bird and it had to be perfect. He reached out to gently stroke the fire bird. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

       It was Dumbledore who answered. “I believe Fawkes would be grateful if you could feed him some energy,” the ancient wizard said.

       Harry frowned for a moment before he understood what was being asked. Energy transfer was not common for wizards but Dumbledore had explained the theory once. With a slight smile he relaxed, allowing his animagus form to come forth, completely forgetting that the last time his wings had appeared they were ebony.

       Blindingly white feathers seemed to fill the room and deep in his mind the Shadows sighed in sheer contentment. Between the night just passed and this, their appetite was more than satisfied. :Wing colour is a matter of intent,: they murmured drowsily. :They are white now, because no matter your feelings towards Fawkes, your intent is pure and is for the greater benefit of _life_. They were black last night because your intent was _death_. You wanted to kill and you had killed and your power reflected that. You will have to learn to control your resolve Master, such that even when you intend death, you can call forth white feathers.:

       Inwardly Harry frowned before he dismissed the Shadows’ words for the moment. He would have to consider them later to determine their real meaning because for the moment, Fawkes was waiting.

       He let light gather in his hands. It was different from the light he feed to the Shadows. It shared certain similarities, it was soft and gentle but this was laden with magical energy. The Shadows didn’t need that. Slowly Harry held the light out to Fawkes. The phoenix cried and with the Potion Master’s help lifted his head and opened his beak. Harry twirled one finger and the light spun into a thin thread that then feed itself to the phoenix. He summoned another thread of light and had it wrap around the worst of the phoenix’s injuries.

       Fawkes hummed but it was a pleased and almost restful sound. :I will not be taken by surprise again,: the fire bird’s voice was firm. As they watched, Fawkes fell asleep, his laboured breathing evening out as his body relaxed.

       “I _will_ make sure they all obey me,” Harry confirmed, his wings whispering softly as he moved slightly.

       Dumbledore nodded. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

       “Much better, thank you,” Harry said.

       “Would you please retract your wings, Mr. Potter?” the question was uttered in clipped tones.

       “Oops,” Wings rustled and his feathers shifted against each other before he retracted them.

       :That _is_ interesting,: the Shadows said suddenly. If they were human Harry would have said they were examining something minutely. :He appears to have made a decision,: they continued after a moment.

       :Who has?: the question was silent.

       :Snape,: they almost laughed. :We will talk later,: the Shadows added when both Dumbledore and Severus looked towards Harry expectantly.

       Harry looked to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Last night... Last night was just too much.”

       “What triggered it?” Snape asked, showing far more perception than the Headmaster who would have probably left Harry’s explanation as it was.

       Green eyes squeezed shut and tears gathered. “Someone... someone apologised.”

       That brought frowns to both of the wizards’ faces. What was bad about someone apologising?

       “Harry you should tell us,” Dumbledore said finally.

       “And what good would that do?” Harry challenged. “If I tell you who, I give it approximately two hours at the most before Professor Snape is summoned and instructed to bring them.”

       “Then you have to forgive them,” the old wizard concluded, already knowing he was going to get nowhere with his previous line of reasoning.

       “No, I don’t!” Harry resisted the urge to look at Snape when the man started. Did he look like his mother or did he look like his father with his insistence? What had the man seen to make him flinch like that? “I don’t have to forgive them for raping me, I don’t have to forgive them for anything. _But_ I do not have to serve them up to the Dark Lord. You know who did it; he already saw to that when he gave them those gifts. You’ve just chosen not to act about it. But no matter how much pain they gave me, I _do not_ want to see them in my dreams.”

       “You are correct Harry, I do know exactly who it was but you must understand I can’t do anything until you are ready to identify them formally.”

       “And then what? Headmaster,” Harry almost seemed to beg, “We reviewed the laws together. For one of them, there was no crime and for the other, it’s barely seen as a crime because supposedly a woman can’t rape a man.” The black haired boy shook his head. “No, I’ll keep them safe until the Dark Lord is dealt with, because I do not want to see him torturing them in my dreams but do not expect me to forgive them, and do not expect me to have to welcome their presence close to me.”

       Surprisingly it was Snape who spoke. “I’ll have a word with them,” he said firmly and Harry jerked his head in agreement. If they stayed away then things should be fine, until _he_ was ready to deal with them.

       “Thank you, Professor,” he offered without prompting and was again rewarded by a small gesture of surprise from Severus. Dumbledore smiled affably, thinking that he and Snape were finally putting aside the past. Internally Harry shook his head. In one way it might be considered good that the Headmaster always tried to look for the best in people. Actually it was good. But for those in a position of power, they could expect the best, but they had to be able to deal with the worst. And on that, Dumbledore failed utterly.

===

       Severus sat back in his favourite chair, a large glass of fire whiskey in one hand. It was only mid-afternoon, but he needed it. The Shadows had been oddly silent today. He hoped it was because they realised he would not follow them but he was not that naive. He could decide all he wanted to follow others, but they were going to be like little children, nagging and whinging until he had no choice but to give in, except he was not a weak willed parent.

       And they weren’t just nagging.

       _No!_ He would not think that, no matter how true it was. They were not just nagging, they were offering, they were bargaining and they were offering everything he’d ever dreamed about.

       But they never mentioned the price.

       No, he had made his decision. The moment he had touched Fawkes today he had made his decision. He’d been agonising over it for weeks, months, years even but in the end it was shockingly simple.

       What did he want?

       Oh he wanted all the things the Shadows were offering but he wanted one more thing and they had only implied that, they had not guaranteed it. He wanted salvation. Only Fawkes could give him that. Only a phoenix could burn away his sin. A phoenix was a pure creature of light in an active way, not like the unicorns or others. Phoenixes actually fought, unicorns just existed. Fawkes had driven back both the effects of the Dark Mark and the Shadows and in addition to offering salvation, he offered peace. It would not be easy, the fire bird never promised that, but it would be possible.

       And so in the final analysis of things, his choice had not been much of a choice at all. Now, when the summons from the Dark Lord came, he would know in his heart what information to give and what to hold back. He was expecting one soon and was mildly surprised not be called for some action at Halloween but that night had passed now and it appeared that the one he had _thought_ would give him salvation had forgone the usual attacks.

       It meant something but for all his intelligence he couldn’t work out what. Severus was one of the honoured few who knew the patterns behind the Dark Lord’s attacks. They may have seemed random to the Aurors but in the past, each attack had been precise, each attack had been for some gain in the overall goal of domination. It was surprising what the death of even a single witch or wizard could do to intimidate some of the Wizengamot and not a few had paid the ultimate price as either a warning or to keep their friends and relatives in line. There were _some_ random attacks carried out by Death Eaters but the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord’s forces, they were far more disciplined and controlled than most realised. The Serpent Lord was a formidable general, moving his troops on a board only he could see towards a goal they had all shared. Today though, Snape was not so foolish to believe himself still graced with the Dark Lord’s favour.

       He had raised too many doubts. But he could fix that. It would take a little time, it would take his usual guile but he was still the only Potion Master in the service of the Dark Lord and that was part of the reason he was still too valuable to kill. At least that was his reasoning. Nothing could be proven against him either and he would make sure in the future that nothing could ever be proven against him. He had in the past, he would do so again. It should be easier this time too, knowing now which side he served truly.

       And yet... and yet when he had seen those blindingly white wings on _Harry Potter_ of all people he had felt doubt coil in his chest. What if the phoenix wasn’t the right path... What if the phoenix wasn’t strong enough? And what if the Shadows could offer him redemption in the form of their master?

       _No!_ There was no way the boy would forgive him. No way the boy would accept, much less try to understand. He might have her eyes and occasionally her demeanour but he was far too much his father’s son. His insistence, his arrogance! All of it without thought. All of it focused only on himself. Perhaps in this case it was warranted. Severus was aware of what had happened last year. He wasn’t meant to know, but he was also aware of some of what had happened in the boy’s childhood. It was terrible. It was sickening but did it give him the right to lash out, to do what he wanted without concern for others? No. If anything it should have taught him better concern for others. It hadn’t though, and it was probably too late to correct that oversight.

       The doubts that the boy’s animagus form raised were quickly forgotten. No matter what the boy’s animagus form, no matter how much power that form had, or how aligned with the light it was, behind it all was still _Harry Potter_. And that was a flaw that could not be overcome. The boy could not forgive him, could not use his power to absolve his crimes. Only the phoenix could.

       The Potion Master smiled to himself and sipped the fire whiskey. He was a good deal more relaxed now than he had been. At least he was until he heard it, a chuckle, a laugh that was almost beneath his hearing.

       :Do you really, honestly believe it is that simple, Severus?:

       He froze. That wasn’t possible. They couldn’t be here! Not _in_ his quarters. He had warded them so carefully, so completely against them! They had never been able to enter before. Why were they here? _How_ were they here?

       :We can go where we want. You know better than anyone that you cannot just leave Severus. The Dark Lord won’t allow that. And you won’t have the chance to make amends. You’ve already made one mistake he won’t tolerate so no matter what you offer him, no matter that you are in a position to watch over and spy on Harry, he has already made his decision.:

       Snape shook his head. The Shadows were wise at times, but on the Dark Lord they didn’t seem to understand much of the way he operated. “No. If I had of displeased him, then I would have already been summoned.” On their predictions of his future with the Dark Lord they were easy to argue against.

       They laughed. :You can think that if you want but remember this when you are screaming on that cold stone floor, when every muscle is cramping, your bones ache and your blood is boiling in your veins, remember this when your saviour phoenix has rejected you, _we will_ still heed your call. We will still come for you and our offer stands. We will give you your dreams. We cannot guarantee redemption any more than the phoenix can but we can give you the chance to seek it far better than he can. We are everything you have ever wanted Severus. That has not changed. That will not change.

       :We are the only ones who can show you the future, Severus. All you need to do is say ‘yes’.:

===

       After Harry had left the Headmaster and Snape he had almost naturally been pulled in by his friends. They could hardly not have noticed his absence and they wanted an explanation. He didn’t want to lie so he was deliberately vague and whispered something about a task he had had to complete. Ginny obviously had figured out more, but she was easily subdued by a quiet smile and a chaste kiss on her forehead.

       It was while he was eating a small dinner that the absurdity of the situation hit him and it was all he could do the fight back a laugh. The Dark Lord hadn’t attacked because _he_ had screwed him into exhaustion! He wondered what both the Aurors and the Death Eaters would think if they knew the truth. That was a Halloween he could get used to.

       Of course he had done other things. Harry looked down at his hands. He could see his claws and see the blood on them but revulsion didn’t cause him to choke and he couldn’t feel the bile rising in his throat as he had when he’d first realised what he had done. His beloved’s explanations had helped and the Shadows’ confirmation of the truth of the Dark Lord’s words had also helped but Harry doubted he would ever have such a burning desire to kill again. He knew he would have to kill again, but not like that. The next time would be most likely be in combat and that would provide a different reason.

       Harry nodded to himself. When he had seen them there, when his anger had been drowning him with its strength and even when his Beloved had been within him, pounding him in exactly the right way to make him see stars of pleasure, he had wanted nothing more than to kill those Muggles, to hear them scream and moan and shudder in pain and to watch as the light faded from their eyes and they knew that he was the cause of their deaths. He had desired to kill them because as the Dark Lord had said, there was very little left that could be done to cause them further pain.

       Perhaps it was because of Xeoaph that he had only desired the Muggles’ deaths, but with those who had attacked him last year he wanted so much more. Millicent, Blaise and Draco... they had yet to begin to feel pain and while he could picture the Dark Lord torturing them for months as he had the Muggles, that image did not give him satisfaction, not like it did for the men of his childhood. He had wanted the men to suffer and they had, and then his anger had called for them to die, and they had. His was the hand that had spilled out their life force. He wanted those Slytherins to suffer, but at least for now he did not want them tortured and he did not want them to die. That _felt_ too easy for them. He wasn’t sure what he wanted for them yet, but he was very sure that he had not forgiven them and he would never forgive them. But right now he wanted nothing to change for them.

       Harry smiled as he realised at least a part of what he wanted for Draco and the rest. He wanted them to see the end of the battle; he wanted them to see his triumph. He wanted to look into Draco’s eyes and see the grey orbs _know_ defeat. And then, once they knew that he had won and they knew that there was no possibility of escape for them, _then_ he wanted them to suffer.

       “Harry, what are you thinking about?” Ginny’s question broke through his reverie.

       He smiled at her. The youngest Weasley pretended to be worldly, pretended that she accepted everything about him and while she knew the truth better than everyone else, she did not truly accept it in her soul. She was so naïve and even with the experience of the Chamber of Secrets, she didn’t believe in the worst of men. If he had been the man he was meant to have been, then yes he would have loved her without reserve, cherishing that innocence. But he wasn’t and it was almost a chain around his neck. He’d tried to wake her up, tried to drive her away, to spare her but she had made her choices, just as he had made his and he didn’t think they would both live with them.

       “Just the future, Ginny,” he said softly, truthfully. “I’m just thinking of the future.” She smiled at him, probably thinking that with the kiss he had given her earlier, he was thinking about _their_ future. It was almost painful to see but there was nothing he could do about it now.

===

       Sirius blinked as he came awake suddenly. Before he was even awake properly he was demanding answers. :How did it go?:

       :Not too bad,: the Shadows replied in that easy tone they usually adopted. :He’s not injured, though the battle is not yet over,: they added further explanation.

       The canine animagus sighed both in relief and frustration. Last night had been the first full moon after Halloween and Remus was again fighting for the position of Supreme Pack Leader of the Isles. He had been hoping that the werewolf battle would be over this moon but the Shadows had just confirmed otherwise. With a blue moon this month, perhaps he had been foolish to hope it would be over when power clearly lay on that future night. He had faith in Remus, but on a blue moon all werewolves would be that much more powerful.

       :And the more powerful the werewolf, the more power needed to fuel that charm? That’s what you are thinking aren’t you?:

       Sirius couldn’t help but nod as he got up and began stirring his fire to boil some water and put breakfast on.

       :That will not be an issue, our master’s charm is more than strong enough to counter.:

       “But what about Remus?”

       The Shadows chuckled. :What makes one werewolf stronger, makes the others stronger as well. Fenrir may think he has an advantage but the advantage is more towards Remus. Fenrir’s _animal_ instinct’s will be stronger, and while he will be physically stronger he will be even less controlled and more prone to instinct, While Remus will also gain strength, he’ll retain the logic to act upon it. If he does it right, he may even find it easier to control the animal. We don’t know yet but the fact that the battle will most likely end at the next full moon is not a bad thing.:

       “It’s always so logical when you point out things,” Sirius grumbled, waiting for the kettle to boil. “So can I reach the Veela today?” He asked suddenly, determined to put Remus from his mind for a brief moment. He couldn’t help his friend at the moment and the only thing he could do was hurry back.

       :We think so, though,: the Shadows paused and Sirius got the impression that they were thinking about something. :Go to the Veela as our agent. We can feel something close and you may need that anonymity.:

       Sirius frowned but nodded as he stood up and stretched properly. Now that they had mentioned it, there was something in the air, something powerful that was not just the oncoming chill of winter. He would be wary.

===

       Sirius was strangely glad of the Shadow’s presence. In the rush of being free and of finding Harry and everything else that had happened, he’d forgotten that it had been a _very_ long time since he’d had sex. The mere presence of Veela reminded his body of that quite forcibly. It was not that he was truly attracted to any of them, the object of his affection was no doubt sleeping off the effects of the full moon, but currently his body wasn’t listening to his mind.

       However, rather than being completely insane and stupid in the presence of the Veela, the Shadows were at least making sure he could keep control of himself. It was amusing the Veela though. They could see his arousal which was at odds with his Shadow imposed self-control.

       “So what are you here for, wizard,” one of the eldest Veela asked. Despite being old and wrinkled there was still a luminosity about her that was appealing. It was nowhere near as arousing as the younger Veela, but it was perhaps all the more potent for its subtlety.

       Sirius retained enough control to laugh. It was nice that someone was being so direct. “I’m here for the same reason most wizards are abroad. I come seeking an alliance with the Veela.”

       “You come seeking bodies for your war,” the Veela who had spoken objected directly.

       That wasn’t anything Sirius could counter. Regardless of who he was representing this time - Shadows or Order - they both wanted the same thing. They both _needed_ fighters for this war and so would offer whatever it took.

       “You seek to entice us to fight with offers of rights that _should be_ ours _anyway_!”

       He was a little surprised at the vehemence he could hear. “Perhaps that can be changed then,” he heard himself say. “I am not the one denying you your rights but maybe I can begin to offer you some solutions?”

       “Oh... and who exactly is making the offer?” The voice was not that of the old Veela and Sirius wasn’t the only one who turned in surprise at its sharp surety.

       :That’s Kisha,: the Shadows said to Sirius, all trace of amused lilt in their voice gone.

       “Elder Vampire Kisha,” Sirius said with a very slight bow. The lessons of his childhood coming to the fore; when you did not know enough about the situation but you had no choice but to talk, treat them as highly ranked, flatter them and _bluff_. “I did not expect to see you here,” that bit at least was completely honest.

       “And I never expected to meet you,” the elder vampire purred and immediately Sirius was put on guard by the tone. “Though you appear to have me at a bit of a know me, but while I know of you, I do not know you.”

       Around him Sirius ignored the way the Veela were quietly melting away. The elder remained but all the others were leaving and he could feel that they were not just retreating into their houses, but were going further, grabbing immediate supplies and running as hard as they could. They could feel the fight brewing.

       :She came to the Dark Lord saying that she would help him with Xeoaph.:

       :But..?: Sirius prompted as he stared at the elder vampire. Her form was small but she was beautiful he conceded. It was not as seductively attractive as the Veela but that was probably because she wasn’t exerting her presence. While petite, she had the rounded curves of a woman and Sirius estimated she’d been made into a vampire in her late teens or early twenties. Her skin was pale which made the darkness of her hair all the more apparent. Dark lavender eyes were examining him in return.

       :But you are more than intelligent enough to work out the possibilities.:

       “We both...” Sirius paused, his eyes narrowing as he considered his words. “Well... serve is far too strong a term but we both work for the same side.”

       Kisha laughed. The sound was a bell like tinkle. “You do not work for the Dark Lord any more than I do.”

       “Yet you, like me, agreed to help him.”

       “Oh, you _are_ good,” the vampire said relaxing a little. Sirius was not fooled and remained tensed.

       “I would appreciate it if you would fight elsewhere,” the elder Veela woman said forcefully.

       Neither Sirius or Kisha so much as glanced in her direction and she shivered, realising that restraint was too late now.

       “I never thought I’d be fighting one of the Shadows’ direct servants,” Kisha said with a smile, her fangs gleaming as she flexed her fingers. “I hope you don’t disappoint.”

       “And I never thought I’d be in a position where I would have to fight a vampire of your...” Sirius hesitated. Kisha was female, and as such she probably was sensitive about her age. Almost every female he had encountered who was over twenty-five could be touchy about their age and Kisha was far older than a mere twenty five. “Of your calibre,” Sirius said carefully after a moment.

       “Say ‘age’, my dear. It’s much more honest,” Kisha laughed and without so much as changing a hair on her expression, she attacked.

       Sirius ducked, and resisted the urge to swear. The vampire was _fast_! And as a tiny trickle of blood ran down his forehead he realised exactly how sharp her claws were.

       :Can’t she at least pretend we are on the same side? I thought she would be better than this?: Sirius thought about the conversation he’d just had with the vampire. She’d interrupted as he’d been making an offer, but before he’d actually said _who_ the offer was from. In hindsight, admitting that he knew who she was already had probably not been a good idea, though he had never really thought he would meet her. Xeoaph was a fairly established Vampire, the thought that he still had a _still living_ Master was not one that would sit well with wizards.

       :She intends to kill you,: the Shadows offered the explanation. No need to pretend anything if he was dead.

       As Sirius spun around, almost as if he was dancing, he was grateful for the _hours_ of recuperation he had forced on himself each day when he was reasonably established following his escape from Azkaban. There was no way he would have survived this if he hadn’t.

       :I can’t win this,: he said to the Shadows honestly as he ducked and weaved, avoiding her attacks. The old Veela woman had vanished but frankly Sirius didn’t care though he hoped she was safe.

       :We know,: they said, apparently unconcerned. :But she will think it odd if you don’t land at least one blow. So close your eyes and let us guide you.:

       In the instant the canine animagus closed his eyes he felt the change in the air. There was a tingle all over his skin, and he felt them feed into him. This was different from the time he was talking to Remus, this felt more like the time in the Atrium when they had fed him power. He felt so energetically alive, and from the hiss he heard from Kisha, he had undoubtedly stepped up the speed of his dodging.

       :We don’t feed anyone power you know,: the Shadows said as they moved from defence to attack. The sudden change in his movement caught her off guard and he felt his hand momentarily hit flesh before being drawn back quickly. :We only enhance or guide what power you already possess.:

       “Now that’s more like it,” Kisha murmured and even though she’d stepped back a few paces, Sirius knew she didn’t count the distance as anything that was insurmountable. “I want you to know, this isn’t anything personal,” the vampire said as she attacked again and Sirius, even with the Shadows’ help, could feel his body straining. “As you so rightfully observed earlier we have both agreed to help this Dark Lord and I will keep my word. I will help him with my childe...”

       The vampire hissed as he pulled off a back breaking dodge that would have been impossible without the Shadows.

       “I get it,” Sirius heard himself say. “You will help him but we aren’t him and you never agreed to non-aggression against his allies.”

       “You are good,” the elder Vampire said with a smile and Sirius felt Kisha release her restraints.

       : _Shit!_ : He swore at the Shadows. :I gotta get out of here!:

       The Shadows replied by seeming to pour into him but Sirius knew that he could not properly match the elder vampire. Xeoaph’s children were one thing. Kisha was a minimum of two generations older and while Hogwarts never made much study about Vampires, Sirius knew enough to know that the older they were, the stronger they were. Potentially, Kisha was one of the strongest Vampires in the world. He felt the Shadows gather around his hands and forearms. It was like the power he had used on Xeoaph’s children to break them apart, but this was somehow more pure, stronger. :You just need to hold her for a second, then apparate,: the Shadows said and Sirius could hear a grim note of determination in their voice.

       :Can Harry fight her?: It didn’t matter if he couldn’t match the elder vampire, so long as Harry had a chance to fight back.

       :Yes, but he may have to go full form.:

       :Whatever that means! Just get me out of here!: Sirius caught Kisha’s wrists in his hands as she swung towards him, the shock reverberating through his upraised arms.

       An instant later the pressure lessened and he heard the ancient vampire whimper in pain, but she was not like Xeoaph’s children. The dark power that wrapped around her was not able to penetrate her skin and she was not one to pull back merely because of pain. If anything her determination was stronger.

       “I am the _Dark_ , and you are nothing more than a slave of lesser creatures,” her lavender eyes sparked with power and despite the pain of the Shadow power that was lashing at her, she exerted herself and Sirius was hard pressed not to go to his knees.

       :Kick her away and apparate,: the Shadows instructed before he could be brought low. The Head of the House of Black was only too happy to comply and before he could really think about anything, he braced his left leg and lifted his right, kicking between her legs. It didn’t have the same effect as it would have had on a male but it was enough to break her grip and without further conversation Sirius jumped backwards focusing his mind on Number 12 Grimuald place and apparating, vanishing an instant before three blades of pure energy passed through where his chest had been.

       “ _Dark take it!_ ” Kisha’s scream was not ladylike but her quarry had gotten away. Vampires had great speed and strength but Wizards had a few aces of their own, though... a slow smile formed on her features. The Shadows had run from her. True, it was not the Shadow Lord himself, but with the power that wizard had wielded, they had to be someone reasonably conversant with the Shadows... and if they had run... then perhaps their power wasn’t as absolute as she had been lead to believe.

       As she swirled her own vampiric darkness around her, she didn’t miss the eyes that watched from every shadow. Yes, she would help this Dark Lord with her childe and then she would help her childe rip the heart out of the upstart Shadows, who dared to believe that they were the dark.

===

       Ollivander looked down at the parchment. His penmanship was perfect but even if this missive had been scrawled in a Muggle child’s crayon, the mere fact he was writing would make his enquiry serious. He’d been working on it for days, trying to find the right tone to make his question seem both important and innocent as if it was merely idle curiosity. The last thing he needed at the moment was others asking questions he could not answer.

       Mr. Riddle had been honest about how he had gotten that feather. The Wand Maker could feel that much. No matter _how_ good a liar the Dark Lord was, and Ollivander knew that he had to be very proficient to have risen to his current position, it was not enough against him. But Mr. Riddle’s honesty had opened up other lines of enquiry.

       His initial tests had confirmed what he feared, that the feather had indeed come from a tenshi. Working with the feather, combining it with wood, dragon and snake blood and basilisk venom to make that wand he had learnt something else. And it was that something else which was one of his worst fears. The feather was _not_ an heirloom, it was fresh. And it was from a relatively young tenshi who was no doubt just discovering their powers, and were ready and wanting to play in the human world. There was not even a whisper of distress around the feather so whoever it was, they had not been coerced into providing it; but whoever it was should not have provided that feather in the first place.

       The Serpent Lord had said he got it off a wizard but no matter how hard Ollivander meditated on that information, casting his mind over every witch and wizard he had sold wands to for the last 150 years, he could not come up with _anyone_ of who would be attractive enough to his own kind that they would give a feather. Of course that didn’t mean it couldn’t be a mainland wizard and that was part of the reason the letter was written. Hopefully it would trigger the watchers there to examine things. But Ollivander could feel it deep in his bones that it was not a mainland wizard. It had been given to the Dark Lord by someone from the Isles.

       Which meant it could be one of Ollivander’s worst nightmares; a boredom gift. A feather that was given to someone specifically to see what type of trouble could be stirred up. It was a risk but the Wand Maker was thankful that it didn’t feel right for that. A boredom gift usually did not make trouble on its own, unless it was blood or something like that. A feather was simply too passive to really have an effect; the owner would need to be present to ferment some discord. He was hoping that his letter would fix the issue. That the Council would take the hint and ask around to find someone who was both young enough and bored enough, who had given the feather to a random wizard who had in turn given it to the Dark Lord as a token of favour. That would be the easiest and simplest thing to deal with. They would chastise the young tenshi and probably burn the feather from existence which would simply turn the wand to ash. Ollivander would then make a discrete inquiry as to which wizard had been gifted with the feather and he would decide if further action needed to be taken then.

       That was the best outcome and the best scenario but the wand maker had been watching for a long time and somehow, this time, he didn’t think it would be that easy.

===

       Voldemort stood in a part of his stronghold most never dared to enter. His robes were filthy but he didn’t care about the grime and muck that was plastering their hems. He was more intent on soothing the basilisk before him. The great serpent was making small hisses of pain and was trying not to move as the Dark Lord cast a variety of healing charms at the scaled skin. This was one case where being mostly impervious to charms was not an advantage but the Serpent Lord had enough sheer raw power that he could push his charm through the basilisk’s skin and casting in parseltongue helped.

       At length he finished and after re-sheathing his wand, the Dark Lord sat, ignoring the small and not so small skeletons the littered the floor as he scooped the basilisk’s head into his lap and stroked his crest, much like Harry had done to Xaos.

       -Who? What?- The question was obvious but was hissed urgently, a promise of pain in the words for those the answer would reveal.

       -Fawkes,- the newly healed basilisk hissed, eyes closed.

       There was a series of loud hisses from the rest of the room. Other serpents were gathered there, and there was a fair portion of Xatarass’ family present as well.

       -Why?- Voldemort had no love for the phoenix and he knew that the line of Ximir had even _less_ love for Dumbledore’s familiar, but he did not want his basilisks hurt fighting the immortal fire bird.

       -Xir. I thought he knew where Xal, Xentor and Xuld were but he does not. The phoenix knows nothing and cares for nothing but himself!-

       -Could he have killed the others?-

       Xeloc shook his head. -No, if he had, the bird would have taunted me. He was genuinely surprised to be attacked.- The last was hissed with no small pride. Xeloc had stalked Fawkes for days and the fire bird had not noticed before he attacked. For a supposedly astute being, the phoenix was remarkably self-absorbed. -I got a feather,- Xeloc added before coughing and almost convulsing as he brought up the feather. Voldemort picked it up, uncaring of the slime covering it. A feather from the phoenix had so many possibilities.

       -Fawkes is already being hunted,- Xatarass said, -but we will show no mercy to those who hold our brethren. They will be found and those responsible for Xir’s death will be hunted.- The words were a promise and the Serpent Lord could feel the power behind them. By now, if Xuld and the others had been free, they would have sent word, no matter where they were, so their continued absence was the confirmation of foul play. The Shadows were looking, but they had yet to find the missing Basilisks. They would, in time, he had no doubt of that, but he worried of what might happen in the meantime.

       The wizarding world knew he had an affinity with serpents but with Harry beginning to use his true power, it was time to show the wizarding sheep the true power of Slytherin. They’d see his true cunning by the end of the year and while victory was assured, it was time to show them how invasive serpents could be, and when he wished it, how deadly their venom was. Against him, resistance was futile.

===

       “Why won’t you let me on your team?”

       Dolohov tried to ignore Bellatrix as she paced around the room while he endeavoured to plan out an attack. He resisted the urge to rub his temples as she continued to rant. He was tempted just to give in to her but he knew that he couldn’t. She wouldn’t understand and, while she was controlled, her refinement left a lot to be desired. He wondered if he should just tell her that? The old Bellatrix would have cringed and walked away. The new one thought nothing of it and Dolohov genuinely wasn’t sure if he should point that out to her.

       “You are planning two raids,” the witch said, gesturing towards the table where there was parchment and various small objects laid out in complicated patterns as the wizard had tried out difference scenarios. “Why won’t you let me on one?”

       There was not even an instant where he considered telling her the truth but Antonin realised he would have to tell her something.

       “Your abilities are not required on either of these assaults,” he said finally, indicating the two sets of plans laid out before him. “Though,” Antonin added with a speculative tone, “Your skills will probably be needed in the aftermath of this one.” He kept pointing to the far simpler plan.

       Bellatrix slammed her hands on to the table, sending parchments flying as she snarled. “Even I can see that _that_ one is so routine it’s almost a formality!”

       “Yet our Master bade me to oversee it _personally_ ,” Dolohov snapped back. Bellatrix was right though. The plan was so routine that it was tricky for him to concentrate on it, yet somehow he was. His Lord might _expect_ him to fail on the other battle plan but failure in this one, despite how easy it seemed, was not an option. Dolohov had retreated into his thoughts so quickly that he almost missed the witch’s muttered words but an inner prompting let him hear.

       “Lucius was right,” Bellatrix whispered to herself.

       For a moment Dolohov froze. ‘Lucius was right.’ The statement was so absurd to him that he almost had no idea how it should be interpreted. But interpret it he did and the instant the meaning filtered through to him, Antonin started laughing.

       Bellatrix looked at suddenly manically laughing wizard in front of her with distaste. While she had been recovering from Azkaban it had seemed as if nothing had changed. Her Lord was still supremely powerful; he still attracted and fascinated her. His followers still feared him and he still believed in the ascendancy of power! She wanted to see the ascendency of pure bloods but she had realised, many years back that blood without power was stupid. There were other ways of dealing with Muggle borns to ensure they fitted in. That wasn’t the issue.

       On the surface nothing had changed. She was beginning to see that the changes were far more subtle than she had expected. It was in little things. The way her Lord insisted that Harry Potter was his and _his_ alone, the way that he trusted some mysterious force that she had never seen and her Lord refused to elaborate on. The way he was _playing_ with that vampire! And the way her Lord hadn’t even given a second thought to clearing an initiation ceremony for some wizard who had appeared... at Halloween...

       Bellatrix frowned. She’d been mildly upset that there was to be no traditional Halloween attack but she’d passed that off as the Death Eaters not being quite ready yet... but what if her Lord had been expecting that wizard? _Who_ was that wizard? She hadn’t really cared about the ceremony, she had no real part there but to watch, but the instant that small robed wizard had arrived her Lord had cared for nothing more. Was he the power Lucius meant?

       “Bellatrix,” Dolohov said suddenly as he sobered. “We higher ranked Death Eaters have little reason to trust each other. We want our _Lord_ ’s favour but we care nothing for each other; but even if you never trust me again, you should trust me on this: Lucius is _wrong_. He was an intelligent wizard, but on our Lord betraying us, Lucius drew the wrong conclusion so completely that I am left wondering if someone bewitched him. Sure some things have changed, but our Lord’s power and our Lord’s desire and drive to conquer, those have only changed to become _stronger_.”

       The witch didn’t even blink. “You know something,” she accused.

       “I know that our Lord has already won,” Antonin said simply but with enough aplomb Bellatrix paused for a moment.

       “No,” she said slowly. “It’s something else,” she added coming around the table to look directly at him. “Tell me!”

       “And have our Master Crucio me into oblivion? I think not. You want to know who the wizard was that appeared at Halloween? You want to know exactly what the Shadows are and why he considers them allies then ask our Master, Bellatrix. He’ll tell you when he wants you to know, not before. Just like he always has! But I will tell you one more thing Bellatrix. If you doubt him, you will fail him, just like Lucius has.”

       For a moment Dolohov thought that Bellatrix would attack, she was trembling so hard. But eventually she turned and he breathed a small sigh. “I might,” Dolohov heard her whisper. “I just _might_.”

===

       _It feels kind of stupid to be writing this in a journal when it’s the Dark Forces and the Ministry who need to know it, but at the moment it’s all I can think of. I don’t know how to warn either._

       Iavor looked down at his writing. It wasn’t the best beginning but it would do. It had taken him a couple of weeks to get a journal and in the end he hadn’t bought one, but had found one in the odds and ends that were in the family attic. He didn’t feel right, just buying a note book. He wanted something a bit ... well... better. He’d found this leather bound book when visiting his Grandfather. It was old, or he thought it was old and the pages were thick parchment but it was also magic and the pages shrunk themselves to rice paper thinness when they weren’t being handled. The leather of the cover also had a few nice security spells and Iavor had realised that he needed security on this journal. While he wasn’t technically telling anyone anything, it would be best if there were no causal readers. And so, after a bit of work, he’d been able to get the locking spells on the cover to respond to his wand alone and he’d managed to get a fading spell to take to the pages so that if anyone did get the book open, the words would fade away. Combined with the fact that he never intended to have the book leave its hiding place in his room, it should be safe enough.

       He dipped his quill into the ink pot again and continued.

       _The first thing that has to be said is that we can’t continue. There have been too many deaths on both sides and the longer we wizards continue to fight amongst ourselves, the more we weaken ourselves. We should be looking at the real threats._

       _The non-humans._

       _They are developing far faster than they should._

       _The Goblins especially... Foul, filthy brutes who want nothing more than to repeat the bloodshed of the past. They hide it well, but you can see it if you look beyond their accepted place... Why else would they have developed a device that can track_ any _magical signature?_

       _They’ve given it to the Ministry and the Ministry’s just seen the use for it now. They think it’s great that they can track the Dark Lord... or that they will be able to shortly. Don’t they see the real problem? Don’t they see how_ dangerous that is _?_

       _No, they don’t. I know they don’t. If they did they would never have ordered so many. I don’t know exactly how many but if my assumptions about the part numbers are correct then it’s hundreds of the things. I don’t know their range but that doesn’t matter. Hundreds is still far too many and will leave no place to hide._

       _I don’t know how these devices work. I do know that they seem to be a mix of potion and crystal. The potion is pretty simple, it just changes colour, any four year old can mix that one up. The crystal though, that’s been etched with runes. Acid etched, if the order forms are right, there seems to be something to do with silver wire. Like I said, I don’t know how they work and I’ve only ever seen one once, but it was enough._

       _It has to be stopped. I just don’t know how._

 

 


	31. Marking Time

Weapon  
Chapter 31 Marking Time

       “Harry,” Luna said, so as to not startle the quiet young man who was sitting in an alcove, basking in the soft November sun.

       Green eyes looked over at her and she returned the smile with one of her own. Harry scooted over a little in the alcove, patting the cushioned stone next to him in clear invitation.

       Luna sat next to him and for a few moments just enjoyed the sunlight. It had taken her a little while to find Harry but once she’d seen him, the blonde girl had understood why. It was serene in this part of the castle and after the last few weeks, it was something that he needed. Today was a beautiful day and most people were in classes so the corridor was deserted. Not that many people came to this part of the castle, but it guaranteed a bit more privacy. The clear light streamed in through the windows and Harry had found a place to sit where he was bathed in that light without it being so bright as to make reading difficult.

       In the few weeks since Halloween, Luna knew that Harry had been busy. For the rest of them class went on as normal but for the young man, it had been a rather stressful time. He’d been studying for his Mastery’s but he’d also been called away more often than not to participate in some skirmish. She probably wasn’t supposed to know but she’d seen the way he’d occasionally tested a reach before he put his weight to the limb. Madam Promfrey and the Auror healers were no doubt doing their best to heal not just Harry but everyone who was fighting but there were limits to magic. The fact that Harry was yet to reach his was testament to his strength.

       “What is he like?”

       Harry looked over at her sharply, green eyes showing light confusion. “What’s who like?”

       “The Dark Lord. You wouldn’t have been fighting so much recently if you weren’t fighting him.”

       Harry snorted. The derision was softened by his small smile. “I haven’t managed to catch him in battle yet. He’s _quick_ and it’s not that he’s retreating; it’s just that generally we are too late to stop him, and all we get to do is the clean-up.”

       Luna frowned. She knew all about truth in the media and how little the Daily Prophet cared but everything she had seen and heard lately said that Harry was fighting the Dark Lord. Yet she could not detect any hint of untruth from the green-eyed wizard.

       “Ah,” Harry said in complete understanding. “I take it the Ministry, and therefore your father as well has been reporting something more... grandiose than the truth?”

       Luna nodded. She really shouldn’t be surprised and if she was honest, it wasn’t her father’s fault. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what people thought of _The Quibbler_ and on some matters her father just took the information from the Ministry. On other things, like Azkaban, he had an inside route but not on everything.

       “Well then,” Luna was surprised at the depth of the sly smile that graced Harry’s features. “How about I see to it that any paper willing to print the truth can do so?”

       It took her a moment to realise what Harry was offering and when she did, Luna blinked her pale eyes in surprise.

       “Once or twice a week, more if needed, we can arrange a time and you can interview me. I’ll tell you what is really happening. There will be some things I can’t tell you and there will be some things I won’t tell you and there may even be some things I’ll want an oath of secrecy on before I tell you. You can write it up as an article or send to your father to write up and that will be that.”

       “Why?”

       “Because Luna, I agree with you. The truth should be out there. This misconstruction of information by the Ministry is dangerous. They’ve admitted that the Dark Lord is back, mostly because killing Fudge in the centre of the Great Hall isn’t something that could be hidden and of course that little attack last year... But they are still obscuring the truth.”

       “Will the Aurors object?”

       Harry chuckled. “Officially, there may be some objections. Unofficially, you may find some corroborating witnesses. I think it annoys Madam Bones that things are still being hidden. I won’t be telling you anything confidential so there is nothing they can do about it.”

       Luna smiled and she felt a thrill of warmth pass through her with Harry returned her smile again. He had secrets, she could tell that and there was something screaming to her instincts that there was something he was hiding which would change everything. That didn’t matter, though; he was a good friend. “So... what’s he like?” She asked again. “You’ve faced him more than anyone, except possibly Dumbledore; so what is he like?”

       Harry looked thoughtful, moving one hand to his face as he frowned slightly. Luna was more pleased than she could say. He was taking her seriously despite the oddity of the question. “He’s... Well,” Harry seemed to be at a bit of a loss. “He’s not really like anyone or anything. The Death Eaters try to be like him; they fail, though. They are really just poor imitations. If anything... he’s almost like Dumbledore. Power wise, I mean.

       “I can feel him from a distance and so can everyone else. He just radiates that much presence. And,” Harry gulped and Luna could see he was looking into the distance, choosing his words with care. Even so, in the last few seconds, she had learnt more about the Dark Lord than she had in years. “Regardless of his goals, or how anyone feels, he _is_ a good Commander. He’s got some skills in organising, in persuading people that if he’d used them differently, he would have made a very good Department Head in the Ministry or even the Minister.”

       “You’ve got those skills too, Harry,” Luna reassured the young man before her.

       “Perhaps, but I haven’t had the years to hone them. On the other hand,” Harry looked up at her, a wry smile on his face and Luna felt her heart soar at it. His words could be taken to mean that he was afraid but his tone, his _magic_ , it all felt confident and she was drawn into that. “I might be the one who supposedly has to defeat him, but I won’t be alone. I have all my friends to help so it will work out, somehow.”

       Unbeknownst to Luna, Harry could feel Fawkes listening and he felt the phoenix tattoo of the Order rustle on his skin as he said the last. _It_ was just the kind of drivel Dumbledore wanted to hear. Luna might quote or paraphrase him for _The Quibbler_ , but no doubt Dumbledore and Fawkes had the transcript of this little conversation in triplicate before them already.

       “I’ll help you all I can,” Luna heard herself say and after the words left her mouth she almost gasped at her audacity. She meant it though; she _would_ help in every way that she could.

       “I know,” Harry replied, his eyes shining. “Thank you,” he added in a whisper before looking down at his hands. They were trembling and gently Luna reached out her smaller hands to stroke his. She wasn’t entirely certain what was wrong, so this was the only comfort she could give him.

===

       Ginny looked up at Harry. He’d been so much _calmer_ since Halloween that she was almost convinced he was a different man. It made her happy to know that Harry was recovering and she was ecstatic to spend today first flying and now playing wizard chess with him, but it left her aching to know that she wasn’t the one who had been able to help him.

       She didn’t know exactly what had happened at Halloween. She only knew that he had vanished and the sense of him that she carried in her heart all the time was suddenly distant. Since he’d been initiated into the Order of the Phoenix, it was as if there was another barrier between them; something else was hiding him from her. Based on some of the hints and cryptic words she had overheard from her parents when they quietly discussed the Order of the Phoenix, she thought it was Fawkes. The order was tied together by the phoenix and it was more than just a symbol. The fire bird actually _did_ something to them. She had no idea what, but she knew it was true. So she hadn’t worried when Harry had become a member. That barrier, that shield was there for his protection and if she was one day initiated, as she was sure she would be, then one day she would share that barrier.

       But while that barrier dulled her perception somewhat, it couldn’t hide everything from her. She could feel and had felt Harry’s growing anger and on the afternoon of Halloween she had felt that anger explode. _It_ had come through that barrier and their bond with no resistance and for a moment she too had seen red before it had vanished, distance dulling the connection, and no matter how hard she had tried she had not been able to feel anything. The barrier caused by Fawkes was one thing, but this also felt as if Harry had been blocking her.

       Like the rest, she had just waited then, going to the feast and pretending to enjoy what was a surprisingly normal Halloween. In a way it had been fun, especially as there were no Death Eater attacks, but it had been nerve wracking as well. Most assumed Harry had been called away by the Ministry. She knew better and that night she had slept fitfully, waking up every hour to check if Harry had returned.

       He hadn’t and he didn’t. Not until mid-way through the next morning. It had been all she could do to sit quietly in her seat in class. But she had restrained herself and had only run to see him at lunch... only to catch him with everyone else. Harry had just laughed at that and then he had been...

       Ginny smiled. Then he had been wonderful! He’d smiled at her, not the fake smile but a real smile, soft and full of life and quiet emotion. And he’d followed that by using his superior height to take her shoulders and kiss her gently on the forehead. She’d melted inside and all her questions and fears had fallen away as if they had never been there.

       She had gone to her afternoon classes in a haze of euphoria and even later, when they were eating dinner, Harry was still attentive. He wasn’t flashy or anything, he didn’t draw attention to himself but he did make her feel like she was the only woman in the world for him. It was the little things, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, the purr in his voice, and the slight relaxation of his shoulders. If she wasn’t looking she wouldn’t see it, but she was looking, she always looked. She remembered; they’d only exchanged a few words, but those words brought her hope.

       “Harry, what are you thinking about?” she asked, almost hesitant to bring Harry out of that distracted air he was exuding.

       His smile broke her heart, in a good way. It was like a sunburst thought the rain clouds, bright, warm and shining. He was quiet for a few moments more, his eyes looking deep into her and Ginny was hard pressed not to shiver in delight. Finally he drew breath and almost whispered to her. “Just the future, Ginny, I’m just thinking of the future.”

       She returned his smile. She’d heard the truth in his words, the depth of commitment. After everything that had happened, being pulled away for Halloween, he still thought of her and of what they would do. She had her doubts, they plagued her, dark and heavy and she chided herself. Harry had given her a chance, and he had given himself a chance, and she needed to put aside her doubts because it appeared Harry had embraced that chance and she needed to embrace it with him.

       It didn’t matter that she didn’t understand everything. She understood enough and she would be there for him.

       Always.

===

       The basilisks were asleep. Narcissa saw that immediately. She also saw the way they were twined around each other. The two smaller ones were almost tied in a knot together and had wrapped themselves around the larger one which lay partially over them. She hadn’t had much time to observe them but she could see that they tried to protect each other and there were times late at night when she swore she could hear their whispers to each other. She didn’t understand them, despite her great power. The gift of Parseltongue was not hers but she didn’t have to understand them to feel the tone, to know they sought comfort with each other. They might be related. She didn’t know and she had no real way of finding out. Not that it mattered. She kept them still for the worth they may yet bring and because they were basilisks. If Draco and she had to attack, then there were potions they could make, protections they could weave from these basilisks. But those protections were best created with fresh killed serpents so these ones would remain alive until then.

       There were rumours that the Serpent Lord was looking for several basilisks, but Narcissa had thought nothing of it. Looking down at the sleeping serpents she wondered if there was any truth in those rumours? How did one tell which serpents her former Lord sought? Was the itch on her arm an indication that these were the great serpents he sought or merely the result of her avoidance of slavery? And if they were, what would he give for them?

       They didn’t look like much. They all had crests, a red feathery tuft that swept back on the top of their heads. And they all had a regal patterning to their scales, the colours gleamed in the soft light and the iridescence created tiny shifting rainbows on each scale as the serpents moved restlessly. Were they..?

       No!

       She shook her head savagely. She would not deal. She would not capitulate to the darkness.

       Resolutely she turned away from the serpents, closing the door on their cell before she walked back up from the dungeons, needing to be in what little sun there was today. Draco had written. His words had echoed her feelings.

       She had expected some troubles gathering support. Lucius had been fairly thorough in his sweep through the ranks but she had not been expecting the outright apathy and hostility that they had encountered. Draco had spoken of the students, of his peers whom he had been trying to recruit. They were not responding the way they had for ... decades. In the past it had not mattered. If you were the strongest, then you were the one who was followed! What had changed?

       No matter _how_ strong the Serpent Lord was, he could not compete with their heritage. He was strong, no one denied that, but in terms of power, he would fall short of them. Was it something else? Intelligence? Wealth? Narcissa raised her face to the sunlight, sending her senses into the surrounding area to check for watchers before she let her wings come forth, fanning them out to catch every ray of sunshine that she could. The thin November warmth felt good despite the definite chill in the air.

       It could not be wealth. Or if the reason others were so enamoured of the Serpent Lord was wealth, they would soon be disappointed. In concert with the Ministry, the Goblins had finally managed to lock the vaults of convicted Death Eaters. Those who had been in Azkaban could not access their money. Any dependents were being given a stipend but the majority of the money was stuck deep in the ground in Gringotts. The Ministry hadn’t been so stupid as to allow the Goblins to seize the vaults, but they almost might have. She was not so encumbered. The Malfoy Vaults were open to her at any time and Lucius had been an astute businessman. Their income was still assured.

       Was it intelligence? No, it couldn’t be. That would be attracting some but it could not explain the continued loyalty of the Death Eaters freed from Azkaban.

       Narcissa closed her eyes as she looked up towards the sun feeling the sun on her face. It usually calmed her but today it did nothing. She could not believe that nothing was working out. Why were the sheep being so loyal? Had he really brainwashed them that badly?

       No... Maybe... Some were brainwashed. There was nothing she could do about them... the others... The others were just used to following so they were going on the familiar path. They would have to teach them, lead them slowly to see the truth. It was merely a difficult time at the moment; in the long run, their power would win out. And if worse came to worse, she could always show the Serpent Lord her true power. It would not be optimal but it was one solution. She could fight Voldemort and win, though it would be best if the battle was private. It would take longer to gain control; they would have to wage a shadow campaign after the Dark Lord disappeared...

       She opened her eyes to the sun, looking directly into its light as Narcissa thought. She’d initially rejected it as a plan but that was before she realised how difficult it would be wooing others to her side. They would come in time, but it was time she and her son may not have... If she was to assassinate the Dark Lord what would that do...? She had the power and the ability though the strike would have to be careful... But would it be for the best?

       The light would feel secure, though they would be curious as to whom or what had destroyed the Dark Lord. That was a natural reaction and one she could utilise. Though what would the Death Eaters think? Some would wait for him. Others would despair but would others turn towards her?

       Not initially, Narcissa decided. But if she offered them a new power, offered them hope then slowly they would come to her and Draco. The real question would be if they could keep everything controlled in that time. That time when they had no real followers and the Light would be confident. Would it be too much of a risk? Was it even a risk? She could control it.

       The Dark Mark on her arm throbbed and Narcissa hissed, looking down at it. The serpent tongue seemed to move and not for the first time she wished she could claw it off her skin. She had been young and stupid when she had accepted but as she glared at it, as if daring the Serpent Lord to track her through it, she realised that it was also the perfect solution. It was a tracker, a communicator and she was sure, with a little bit of work, she could make it into a controlling mark. It would not be the Dark Mark, though Narcissa narrowed her eyes as she forced herself to examine it.

       It was crude; a deviation on the protean charm but it did the job. She looked down into the layers of the magic. She could do better... she _would_ do better. The mark was considered an honour but it was also a hindrance. It had to be hidden. If she was to make a mark it would need to function better - hide itself, provide better communication than mere temperature fluctuations and provide her and Draco with the ability to control anyone bearing their mark.

       Resolutely Narcissa turned away from the sun and went back into the house. She needed the knowledge the Malfoy library contained if she was to do this. It was not her preferred plan but she had to be prepared for every scenario, be prepared to take every opportunity. Draco was destined to rule but she well knew that sometimes, you would only get one chance to embrace destiny and no matter which path fate intended them to take she would be ready. If it was slow accumulation of power, she would be the spider pulling all the strings on her web. If it was to assassinate the Serpent Lord and take power that way, then she would bring the battle to him.

       She would not lose and she would not fail. Destiny would not accept anything else.

===

       The Dark Lord looked down at the journal before him. He’d retired to his study intending to catch up on his correspondence but had found the leather bound book in the centre of his desk. He recognised it of course. He’d created it and its partner a few weeks ago for the Shadows but he hadn’t expected to see it again. He’d thought it was a trivial task they’d asked him to do, but it with it sitting in the middle of his desk, the instruction to read was obvious.

       There were only a few entries which he read quickly. At first, he’d been tempted to dismiss it as drivel, the writings of a weak wizard who had no power. But as he’d read further he’d come to realise that while the wizard was weak, they did see the problems. He also knew now that they were pureblood and worked in at the Ministry. The wizard didn’t seem to have the normal pure blood hang up about half-bloods and Muggle-borns but it was a little difficult to completely conclude that as those issues had not come up in the wizard’s writings. He was very young and lacked confidence.

       Young, opinionated, angry, confused, and uncertain.

       Voldemort smiled. Oh, he _liked_ that. Those of his Inner Circle had always been sure of the path and were not afraid of the consequences of their actions. But some of his more loyal followers were those he had coaxed and educated, those who had been uncertain but sympathetic to his cause. Once he opened their eyes, once he showed them how their strength could be used, they usually swore themselves to him without further thought.

       And the writer of this journal seemed ripe for the picking.

       But... there was probably a reason the Shadows had gone through such subterfuge. :He’s not ready yet,: the Shadow’s whispered before he could ask. :You can have him later.:

       Voldemort nodded and turned back to the journal. It was proving to be quite a useful source of information once you read through the lament of defeat. For example, he now knew the Goblins were directly responsible for the Ministry detecting him at Diagon Alley. He had known it wasn’t just luck that day and he had responded to the Ministry’s new ability by the simple expedient of _speed_. All his forces timed their attacks and Voldemort knew that if he’d remained longer at a few of those attacks he had been personally present at, he would have been able to see Harry in action. But that was something that could not come to be quite this early so his forces had retreated, attacking and vanishing.

       Now though he knew that that would not be enough. The description of the Goblin-made devices suggested several ways of neutralisation. Contaminating the potion for example would do nicely, as would modifying the rune etching. Unless the Ministry wanted to shield and ward each device, rendering them ineffective it should be easy. He had already assigned several Death Eaters to the task of acquiring samples of the devices and then to their mass destruction. The absolute confirmation of the Goblins’ choice had led to a moment of rage for the Dark Lord but it was a moment that had been quashed by glee. He did not yet know how he would destroy the Goblins, but they had signed their execution warrant themselves. He would see them dead.

       After skimming over the last entry, the Dark Lord put the journal safely in one of the desk draws, before he pulled out several sheets of parchment. No matter the new information source, he did have letters to write... and he should call in a few of his followers who worked in the Ministry. Perhaps they would know who the writer was and could look out for him, discretely of course.

       :We will try to ensure you don’t kill him by accident,: the Shadows murmured.

       “Oh, you are interested in this wizard?”

       :No,: they replied and Voldemort could hear the amusement in their tone. For them, this wizard was simply a diversion. :He’d faint if he met you now; he’d probably die if he could conceive of us. We saw the opportunity he represented and acted on it, nothing more.:

       “Well,” Voldemort mused as he began writing. “Ensuring that he does not die accidentally is the least we can do then. Unknowing little information drones like this one can’t be easy to come by.”

       The Shadows laughed before they faded, leaving the Serpent Lord to his correspondence.

===

       “Where were you?” Blaise hissed, dragging Millicent into a disused classroom.

       She squealed but quickly calmed when she recognised the voice. “Where was I when?”

       Blaise looked disbelieving. “At Halloween!” He said in a long suffering tone.

       Understanding flashed across her face. “I don’t know,” Millicent said truthfully as she sat down on one of the desks. “It doesn’t matter though. Magstine is safe.” She was not a beautiful girl, she knew that. Her father would have said heavy boned but she was more honest with herself. She was overweight and unattractive, but in that moment she showed such serenity that Blaise was surprised.

       “He accepted your apology?” There was no hiding his genuine interest.

       Millicent snorted and the moment was over, “Of course not.” Somewhere, deep in her soul she had known it was a hopeless cause even before she apologised but she had been driven to try something, anything to protect her sister.

       “How can you be sure then?”

       Millicent looked at Blaise, really looked. In the past few months he’d seemed calm and controlled but she could see now his rising fear. He was well presented, he always was but around the edges Blaise looked a bit frayed. His perfectly plucked eyebrows were no longer razer edged and his clear nail polish was chipped. Superficially he was composed as always but he was waiting for the axe to fall. “We are Slytherin,” Millicent began, feeling obligated to answer his question as well as she possibly could. “We wait to take revenge and if we can’t strike at them because they are too powerful or out of our reach, we will strike at something they hold dear. I know Magstine is safe, Zabini because I have never been out of his reach.”

       “That’s not possible!”

       She smiled gently. “It is. We should have thought about Draco’s request further. We assaulted The-Boy-Who-Lived, the only person known to have survived an Adava Kedrava. Why the hell did we believe we could do what others could not?”

       “We weren’t meant to kill him.”

       “No, we were meant to do far worse against someone so powerful we can’t even begin to see his power. If it was such an easy job, why didn’t Draco do it himself?”

       Blaise nodded though his agreement was reluctant.

       “Blaise,” Millicent said softly and there was a note in her voice that he had to listen to. “Make peace with yourself and live as best you can. What will happen, will happen, and neither of us had the power to do anything to stop it. The best we can do is be accepting and to be true to who we are.

       “If he’s going to kill us, he will do it. If he’s going to torture us, again, he will do it and we can’t stop him. And if he wants to forget the entire thing happened, then that’s what he will do.”

       “You make it sound like we should just give up,” the young man accused.

       “Not give up,” Millicent said. “Giving up implies that we have a chance to fight. We don’t Blaise and the sooner you realise that, the better off you will be. We have no chance to fight him off. We have no chance to persuade him and I honestly don’t think anyone could stop him, not Draco, not Dumbledore, not even the Dark Lord. It doesn’t matter that Draco asked us to do it, in the end we did it, Blaise, and we will have to take responsibility for that.” She slipped off the desk and moved to the door.

       “Make peace with yourself,” she said before opening the door. “That way, no matter what happens, there will be no regrets.” She slipped out of the door, leaving Blaise alone in the class room, staring at the closed door.

===

       Harry swooped lazily through the air. The game, Gryffindor’s first Quidditch game of the year, was going about as well as he expected and while they weren’t leading, they were keeping in touch. Against Ravenclaw’s team, the newness of Gryffindor’s showed. He’d trained them as much as he could but there were little flaws in the way his Chasers worked together and those flaws were enough for the more experienced Ravenclaw team to take advantage of. Still, when he caught the Snitch, that would give them victory.

       He smiled. There had been a small protest at his playing Seeker but it had been dealt with rather efficiently. It should have been anticipated that someone would have objected to him and he would have thought it would have been the Slytherins, but instead it was some rule happy Ravenclaw who had raised the protest. Harry’s N.E.W.T.s had been awarded, so technically he had graduated from Hogwarts. And if he graduated, then he couldn’t be playing on team. There had been no malice with the protest, Harry had sensed that, but there had been a bit of a desire to remove the best Seeker on any team. Harry had been angry before he recognised it as just school level competition. Nothing more and once he’d recognised that, he’d been able to smile and laugh and point out that while he may have been awarded his N.E.W.T.s, he had not yet graduated from Hogwarts and was enrolled as a Sixth Year student engaged in Mastery Studies. Once the fact he was still enrolled was confirmed the Ravenclaws had rather shamefacedly dropped the protest.

       Of course, now that they were playing and leading the third game of the Quidditch Season, they probably thought that their protest had been unnecessary. Harry chuckled to himself, protest or not, he fully intended to win this game. But he wanted his new team to get as much practice in a real situation as they could, so he was also letting the game extend as much as possible.

       He hadn’t used any power to find the snitch but he could still feel that it was down near the crowds, probably hiding close to the grass. It didn’t matter. Harry wove backwards and forwards, ignoring the way Cho followed him. She probably figured he’d see the Snitch first... which was true but how she thought she could out manoeuvre him for it was something else. Eh, that was her problem.

       It was a nice enough day to fly. The sky was overcast but there was no smell of rain so the air was crisp and clean and cool on the skin. Flying on his broom was good but it wasn’t as good as the feeing he got when he could use his animagus form. Harry shook his head before he could follow that thought through to conclusion. It just left him aching and besides, none of that was the point for now.

       When he had visited his beloved at Halloween, apart from making love and him killing the Muggles and healing up the last damage of a nasty little cut to his beloved’s ribs, they had discussed quite a few things but Lord Voldemort had also given him a few things; a wand, some blood, and peace. He smiled. He was obviously in a poetic mood to think of the last as something that could be given, even if it was true. His beloved had been patient all year, last year, and had waited until Harry was ready. He’d kept the Muggles for him. He’d known all along what Harry would eventually need and he’d been patient until Harry himself was ready. For a man who usually took what he wanted when he wanted, he had been remarkably tolerant. And by the very actions taken, the deaths and the blood and the whole hearted understanding and soft love and acceptance, Harry’s heart had taken a measure of peace.

       Which left the two other items to consider. The day after he’d returned, he’d spent a long time looking at the wand. It was not for him. He’d known that immediately, though he’d also sensed his feather in it, along with the dragon blood and the whisper of serpents’. Voldemort had briefly shared his mind with Harry to show his lover how the wand had been created but Harry didn’t have any further idea what it should be used for. He shared Voldemort’s belief though that it would be necessary. Oh well, he would find the one the wand chose and then they would have a better idea of why it was necessary.

       And if anything, the blood was a bit more of a mystery. :We will tell you when it’s needed,: the Shadows said suddenly, their voice almost sleepy.

       :You could always tell me now,: Harry said with a soft smile and the merest pulse of power for them.

       :And spoil the surprise? Don’t be silly,: they chided. :Just keep it close to you.:

       Harry shook his head bemused. As much as he was curious, it was not worth forcing them to answer, especially not when they seemed to be having fun. He could play their little games every now and then.

       Speaking of games... :I think it’s time to end this match, don’t you?:

       The current score was 340-210 in Ravenclaw’s favour. His team had done well, but they needed more practice. A loss would teach them that as well but a loss went against his pride. Green eyes narrowed as Harry looked towards Cho. She was hovering on his right side, a few metres up. “Are you ready?” He asked casually.

       “What do you mean?” There was a note of confidence in her voice. With the score what it was, it soon wouldn’t matter even if he caught the snitch and she was feeling a small kernel of relief in her stomach. Playing against Harry was never easy.

       “To catch the snitch,” Harry said with a smile.

       “I’m always ready,” Cho replied.

       “That’s good.” Without waiting for another answer or giving any further warning Harry dived. It took a moment for Cho to realise he was serious and with a shout she set off behind him, already knowing that she had been duped by his easy conversation. Still until the snitch was captured, she had to try.

       In the end it wasn’t much of a competition and to those who had been watching Harry all game, he pulled off the move with an almost inhuman grace, flying through the air as if he had wings. He was beautiful and with a move that skimmed preciously close to the ground but showed off Harry’s complete control, he snatched the snitch out of the air before pulling his broom up to swoop over the crowd, holding the snitch high in victory.

       A 340-360 score in their favour was not the most flattering of score lines, but it was at least a victory. Harry hoped the team could see the lesson though and would work harder on becoming a team, rather than individual players because there was no way in HELL he was losing the next game, Slytherin versus Gryffindor, even if they hadn’t learned the lesson.

===

       Draco ran one perfectly manicured nail down the page as he read. He’d deliberately pushed aside his feelings or else every time he thought about _why_ he was stuck in the library, he saw red and it took precious time to calm down.

       That low down, scum, Gryffindork had dared to put a spell on _him_ ; the Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. He had known something was off, every moment of every day, he had known that there was something not quite right. His subconscious had been screaming at him. Over summer, it had been easy to ignore, with his Mother’s training and for the first bit of this school year, when he had been trying to recruit, the small nub of disbelief had been attributed to other factors. But all the time, his mind had been trying to tell him that Harry Potter had dared to put a spell on him.

       So that’s how he had found himself, almost every spare moment in the library, looking up methods of breaking spells. It would have been kinder to oblivate him, but the slimy Gryffindor hadn’t even had the courage to do that. No, instead he’d gone for something else. The _instant_ he had realised there was a charm on him, the exact knowledge of what was wrong had rushed into his head. He _remembered_ hitting the Gryffindork with an Avada Kedrava and he remembered the little talk they had had near the end of last year.

       The _arrogance_ of the boy astounded him and for a moment Draco had to breathe deeply to calm down again. He remembered the whispered spell ‘ _Solmemorate_ ,’ but he could not find any counter charm. What was perhaps more worrying, was that he had yet to find the charm itself in any of the books available. He’d _tried_ writing to his mother, but he had been unable to actually write anything. He’d persisted and had sent off the missive in the hope that she would sense what was wrong and send back something which may help. As a Sixth Year he had limited access to the Restricted Section but he still couldn’t find the charm.

       The Gryffindork had definitely done something to get the results he had, and now he was pouncing around supposedly studying his maters. It was enough to make anyone want to scream! Didn’t anyone else see it? See the guile, the pure animal cunning? Or did everyone just see their golden boy and were besotted with the thought of a saviour? With the amount of progress he had been making with recruiting, he was beginning to see that most people had wool stuffed between their ears! And these were meant to be the future elite of the wizarding world.

       Draco shuddered and continued looking through the books as he searched for answers.

===

       Severus could remember Dolohov greeting him quite warmly, which should have been his first warning. Antonin was the Dark Lord’s creature, and was the Dark Lord’s creature so completely and devotedly that it was rumoured he had executed his own daughter at Lord Voldemort’s command and that he had done it without the slightest hesitation. Antonin was not warm to _anyone_.

       And he could remember them chatting almost amicably in a small Muggle-looking establishment, which should have had his every sense of preservation screaming at him. When would a ranking Death Eater like Dolohov be caught dead in a Muggle establishment? Especially after having been freed from Azkaban. Though that was part of the reason Snape had agreed to meet him there. All the former prisoners had been lying very low, but Antonin had said they needed to speak, and that request had been reinforced by a pulse from the Dark Mark. It was not Dolohov who wanted speak but the Serpent Lord.

       But none of the warning signs had registered to the Potion Master and he’d stupidly thought he was still in control, which was why he was now lying on a very cold stone floor, his ears ringing so much he couldn’t hear, his head spinning with vertigo and his vision so blurry as to be useless. And that said nothing about the pain. Every nerve ending seemed to be on fire and the cold of the stone was actually a blessing. The sections of skin that were in contact with the stone were yearning for more and they felt good.

       The only thing he was grateful for was that the Shadows had yet to pipe up, but he could imagine them and even though they couldn’t smile, he could _see_ their smug, knowing smile, and hear the phrase ‘We told you so’ whispered in that soft gentle voice they sometimes used when they wanted to be their most annoying. It was only a matter of time.

       There was another magical shift, and Snape judged that to be about the fifth... or maybe it was the sixth... Darn it... he was so turned around he couldn’t even keep track of the small stuff. The way he fell to the floor was nothing special except that this time, the floor felt like stone but seemed a smooth freezing red. And someone put their foot between his shoulder blades and held him down. It really was unnecessary. He hadn’t planned on getting up. Whoever they were, they felt like a mountain!

       On the whole it wasn’t the pain and the disorientation that scared Severus. It was the silence. The red masked Death Eaters who had bound and picked him up, after they had stunned him had been silent. Even Dolohov had been quiet and they’d all moved as if they had practiced this many times before. They probably had, Snape realised morosely. While many witches and wizards had been killed to get a point across, others had simply vanished. The team that had man-handled him through five or six magical transferences were probably responsible for that and thus with the amount of practice they no doubt had, they didn’t _need_ to talk.

       As he slowly collected his thoughts, using his Occulemency skills to literally force his mind into order, he became aware of the smell. The red icy floor below him was the exact shade of air dried blood and as he was pushed further down, the pressure in the centre of his back never letting up, the Potion Master could tell that the smell, that cloying, coppery scent was coming from the floor. It was not only the exact shade of blood there was a very good possibility that it was blood. How was it being held frozen though? Even as his mind asked the question, he ruthlessly shoved it aside. It really didn’t matter.

       “Ah, Severus, so good of you to join us.”

       “I am your loyal servant,” Snape said as if there was absolutely nothing wrong.

       It didn’t seem possible but the foot pressed down harder and the Potion Master felt his ribs grate but he refused to cry out.

       “Now, now,” there was amusement in the Dark Lord’s chiding. “Severus has given me years of service, so perhaps we should let him up.” It wasn’t a suggestion and Snape felt hands grasp his arms and haul backwards until he was almost hanging between the Death Eaters holding him. He didn’t even bother to try to get his feet under him.

       From his new vantage, the scene he could see what about what he had expected. The Lord Voldemort was seated in his throne, which was flanked by Dementors and had several serpents coiled around it. He looked very regal, very grand and that was just the physical impression. To magical senses he was even more over powering and for a moment Snape’s eyes focused and he wished they hadn’t. He knew the Dark Lord could see magic. He couldn’t, but he like most wizards had some sensitivity and the Serpent Lord was not hiding his presence at the moment. It was painful in its own way.

       “I do not understand, my Lord,” he forced himself to say. He knew what was happening, but his mind forced him to try to find out why. His chances of escape were nil, and Snape was surprised at himself that he didn’t feel anything at that knowledge.

       A long fingered white hand snapped upwards, a scrap of paper held loosely between two fingers. “Perhaps not,” Voldemort murmured with a half-smile and a small gesture.

       Severus couldn’t fight as the Death Eater’s fixed manacles on his wrists and ankles. He was still too weak.

       “You were my spy,” the Dark Lord said softly as he watched on. “You were a very good spy, Severus, don’t ever doubt that. Your fellows doubted your loyalty, I know you know that. They were always leery of your ability to play both sides, but I always knew where your true loyalty was. I watched, and you knew I watched, but I never doubted. You never openly proclaimed anything, you were too clever for that and I know, even now, you are questioning, you are calculating and you are trying to work out exactly where you made that misstep.

       “This!” He waved the paper again and Snape realised it was a clipping from The Daily Prophet. “This is your mistake, Severus. Most would just look upon it and see the names and think nothing more. In fact, that’s what most of my followers thought. They saw the names they considered it nothing more than a list of the wanted. I saw more. I saw your betrayal, your choice.”

       The Dark Lord’s voice took on a disappointed note, one of a father who was reprimanding a son for failing a task that should have been within their ability. “What have I not given you, Severus? What promise have I broken to you?” His voice was soft, but Snape recognised the compulsion in the tone.

       The Potion Master sighed. “I have only ever asked you for one thing,” he said quietly. “And on that you failed,” he added, ignoring the outrage he could feel from the Death Eaters who had for the most part taken up positions against the pillars.

       “You still mourn for her?”

       “Always.”

       The Dark Lord’s visage took on a considering aspect and the paper fluttered to the floor as he touched his finger tips to his lips. “You know as well as I do that she would _never_ have allowed it.”

       Most of the Death Eaters listening were lost. They knew whatever their Lord was discussing with his former Potion Master was of great importance, but they had no sense of the events. The Dementors didn’t care. They were here for effect and the serpents were calmly sleeping in the presence of Xatarass.

       “It doesn’t matter,” Snape said.

       “You are being remarkably accepting.”

       “You have made up your mind,” Severus stopped himself from putting an honourific on the sentence.

       “Yet you are not protesting that I am mistaken.”

       Severus lowered his head to hide his rather self-depreciating smile. He should be unmanned with fear, quivering or at least fighting the bonds and the situation he found himself in. In the past, when he had pictured this happening, he had always imagined he’d fight to the death but now that he was in the position he’d feared for so long, he was collected and calm. It was probably scaring some of the Death Eaters and for that Snape was almost amused. He may not _appear_ afraid, but Snape could feel, inside that he was screaming. He knew full well the Dark Lord was at his most dangerous when he seemed calm. Voldemort was currently amused by his posturing and that did not bode well for him. Somehow, he had to anger the Dark Lord. That was his only hope for a quick death. Placid acceptance would give amusement for so long but after that...?

       “You have made up your mind,” Snape repeated.

       There was no warning, no shifting or the meeting of eyes to announce the attack but the Potion Master stiffened, clenching his body tense as Voldemort’s mind ruthlessly reached towards his defences. The Dark Lord was a true master Legilimens, eye contact helped, but he only needed a glimpse of their eyes when he was familiar with the mind he was attacking.

       He wanted Severus broken. The attack was lightning fast and brutal. It was stabbing motions like the thrusts of a sword into flesh, each one, if it hit a vital point, was perfectly capable of killing. But the Serpent Lord wasn’t interested in killing he was interested in causing pain, in striping away the Potion Master’s defences so that he could see every thought.

       Severus already knew what the Dark Lord would find, given enough time. He could hold out for a day, a week, a month, he wasn’t sure how long but in the end, as galling as it was to admit, his mind would be laid bare and everything he’d ever seen or done, felt or feared would be given up to a man who would have no qualms about using any of the information. He could be rebuilt and programmed, or more likely he would be made to scream, humiliated and debased.

       “You always go about this in the most inefficient way.”

       Snape couldn’t stop a jerk of surprise at the feminine voice. The only female voice he’d expected to hear in the Dark Lord’s stronghold was Bellatrix’s deranged laugh. He couldn’t turn, but he knew with absolute certainty that this was someone else... someone not human.

       “And there is a simpler way?” There was a hint of interest in Voldemort’s voice but strangely not absolute agreement.

       A small hand danced over the Potion Master’s face from behind, delicately stroking one cheek and under his chin before drawing back and resting gently on his shoulder. “He would make such a yummy meal, and if I give him just a tiny bit of blood, his mind will be mine.”

       “No.”

       Severus watched in interest as the serpents around the Dark Lord’s throne reacted to the tone. Instantly they woke up, and their tongues began sampling the air. There was the flash of yellow eyes and the rising of crests as the Serpents began rearing upwards. It was most disconcerting to see the Eyes of a Basilisk and to realise that you had then taken another breath... and another. Eyelids, Snape berated himself as he forced his attention back to the dialogue, ignoring the way another serpent, larger than the others reared up from behind Voldemort’s throne.

       The woman, whoever she was, was not intimidated and just laughed. “I see you are embracing your Serpentine aspects,” she commented in her musical voice. “But you won’t accept what will make this so much easier. I can have _every_ secret he has exposed in under five minutes and you persist in doing this the hard way.” There was, beneath the musical cadence of her voice, scorn but it was well covered by a veneer of amusement.

       “I am not interested in his secrets,” Voldemort returned. “I already know everything I need to and for this case, my dear, the hard way, as you put it, is so much more pleasurable. I do not care about whatever twisted logic my dear Potion Master has used to convince himself to betray me. It doesn’t matter. All I care about is causing him pain. And I will cause him pain.”

       Snape knew he was the only one who heard it, the woman’s whispered words. “And that is why you will lose,” before she smiled up at the Serpent Lord as if nothing was wrong. Raising her voice she said the next as she walked around Severus, her well-manicured fingernails morphing into short claws that traced out a thin bloodline over his skin. “As you wish, my Lord Voldemort,” she said easily, bringing one finger to her lips to taste the single drop of blood there. “But it’s such a pity, he does taste so wonderful.”

       “My dear, forgive me, but my servants should be enamoured of me, I do not need them enamoured of you.”

       Severus realised the woman had to be a vampire as she leaned back and laughed and the part of his mind that was still working, despite the futility realised that logically, there was only one vampire she could be. If The Order had an agreement with a Vampire, and the Dark Lord had an agreement with a Vampire, this was not going to end well.

      

      


	32. That's Where He Is

Weapon   
Chapter 32 That’s Where He Is

===

       Sirius had always been fascinated about the duality of time. It always moved at the same rate but sometimes he seemed to rush through everything and at other times it dragged as if the chains of hell weighed it down. He wondered what today would bring. After he'd apparated away from the Vampire Elder, he'd holed up for a few days to rest and then had sought out the Welsh Dragon Handlers.

       The Welsh Green Dragon's weren't particularly big or known for their aggression but their preserves were controlled by the Ministry so they would be the fastest Dragons to bring to a battle. The Romanian Government could be approached after it was shown that the idea was useable and didn't result in the deaths of dragons. If any were killed, and Sirius was not so naive as to believe that none would die, then the handlers would give everyone hell... But they, the dragons, were the one thing no one had yet considered. Sirius knew the eventual outcome of the war but he could not afford to be considered anything but the staunch supporter of the Light.

       :You are a staunch supporter of the Light,: the shadows whispered cheekily.

       The canine animgus snorted. It was true, but he doubted people would see it that way.

       "So, what does a naïf like you want?" The gravelly voice broke into his reverie. It was not friendly and in an instant Sirius read the man's leathery face. They didn't see many people on the Dragon Preserve and those they did could be broken into specific groups. Muggleborns and Halfbloods looking for work in the Wizarding world and who could find nothing else, a few usually poorer pure blood wizards who genuinely _loved_ dragons and wanted to work with them, some cheapskate tourists and occasionally a Ministry official. As the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, he was out of place, badly out of place here and the wizard's voice screamed of his suspicion. Diplomacy called for, especially if he wanted to get the Dragons into combat _with_ the Handler's not specifically targeting him.

       Sirius smiled, trying to appear friendly. "I wanted to discuss an idea with you, before I took it to the Ministry."

       "And what crack pot scheme has your lordship come up with now?"

       Oh, there was history in that sentence and Sirius wondered if someone else had suggested using dragons in combat before him. "By now, I'm sure the Ministry has informed you, we are at war."

       "Aye, they did, not that it matters much to us. Our charges don't care about such grand things as who's the Minister."

       "Sounds so much simpler," the Head of the House of Black laughed, a short bark but it showed true amusement and for a moment the Dragon Handler was offended, then he registered the words and a ghost of a smile traced its way over his lips.

       "So what do you want?"

       "Unfortunately, it's about the war. A lot of it will be subterfuge and small strikes by dedicated forces, but there will be at least some battles, where every wand will count."

       "So you want us handlers to come?" The man seemed rather skeptical.

       "Are you going to tell me that _anyone_ in the wizarding world can cast stronger stunners than Dragon Handlers?"

       The man laughed. "That's true... But that's not really what you want, is it, my lordship?" The sarcasm was back in force.

       "No, it's not. In those battles where _every_ wand will count, so too will every creature, every power that can fight..."

       " _No!_ "

       "No, what?"

       " _No!_ " The man began hyperventilating. "You want to use the _dragons_ to fight your petty wars."

       "I don't want the dragons to fight in any wars, because I _don't want any wars_ but I can't hide from reality. And your charges may be what make the difference."

       " _No!_ "

       "Do you really think the Dark Lord will continue the arrangement as the Ministry does? What do you think Dark Lord's use dragons for?" Sirius felt slightly bad wording the question as he did. He was fairly sure that the Serpent Lord would probably continue to preserve Dragons and other magical creatures. He was against Muggles, not magical creatures, but there was also no doubt that he would most likely increase experimentation in some areas, and that would include dragons. Even Sirius could remember his potion class and Slughorn's complaint that so many potions could be made better with Dragon parts but they were so infernally _rare_ that they were almost never used.

       "So you want us to throw our lot in and guarantee our charges die."

       "I _want you_ to realise that if this war goes badly, then nothing will be the same. I want you to realise that unless everyone and everything works together, then we are all lost. The Dragon's may make a different, they may not, but I will be dammed if we lose this war because we were afraid to try everything we could."

       "But to use our dragons..."

       Sirius growled. The man was what he had expected. So over protective of the beasts that he didn't, couldn't, see the opportunity they represented. The Dragon Handler reminded him a bit of Hagrid. So protective, that he could not believe that a dragon could be dangerous to others. But he had to see the truth, and he had to know they were desperate. "Keep in mind I'm doing this as a formality. Even if you don't agree, I _will_ be bringing this up with the Ministry and I can practically guarantee you, they will be willing to try, no matter _what_ objections you raise."

       "You bastard!"

       "I've been called worse." Sirius didn't care, but he was careful to watch that the handler wasn't about to launch a jinx at him. The last thing he needed now was to get into a duel.

       "You Lord types are all the same. You get an idea, you push it and support it, but the moment it gets difficult you jump ship."

       "Is that what you think?"

       "That's what I know."

       Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, assessing the Dragon Handler. "My name is Sirius Black, the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black," he began the introduction formally. "I am the only man to have ever escaped Azkaban and I have now taken up arms in this war and let me assure you, sooner or later, _all_ wizards and witches are going to have to make a choice. This war is not going to be like the others where people can sit on the side lines. _Everyone_ will have to make a choice and everyone will have to believe in their choice. That is how this war will be. Even you, who have never been involved, will have to fight and you can come either by your own volition, or kicking and screaming when you are ordered.

       "This is not about anything else except giving us the best opportunity to fight this war."

       "And what makes you think they can _do_ anything?"

       "Your charges are big, strong, and magically resistant. They won't be slaughtered, because they _can't_ be slaughtered. I won't lie and say that it's not a possibility; we both know there are charms that can hurt and even kill dragons but also know that they take a ridiculous amount of power. It won't be easy to have them in combat, I don't know exactly how to control them, but you and your handlers do. No one is expecting a dragon to follow orders, but they don't need to follow orders to destroy the dark forces.

       "Like it or not, they will make a difference."

       The man seemed to consider his words and Sirius could almost feel the losing battle in the man's mind. The dragon handlers may be remotely located, and they may not have the slightest interest in politics, but they knew how the war was going and they knew what the defeat of the Ministry would bring. In the end, they, like him, really had no choice.

       "Get out!" The order was sharp and the canine animagus was shocked at the depth of pain in the Dragon Handler's voice.

       Sirius bowed his head slightly. "I thank you for the consideration," he said as he let himself out of the little shelter and apparated. There was little need for him to rub salt into the man's wounds. The Dragon Handlers wouldn't appear immediately in battle, but they would be there. They knew what was at stake and they knew now, what their choices were. Some might want to remain, but the rest were good men and women, they would do the right thing. They would take their precious charges into combat. They would give the dragons the taste of human flesh, and they would allow the Dark Forces to kill some dragons, because they, like all others had to fight.

       And most likely, none of them would ever forgive him.

===

       Narcissa had to remind herself that she really couldn't curse the man in front of her... Except he wasn't a man. He was a beast, not worthy of the term human and in normal times, even if she'd killed him, there wouldn't have been consequences. But she, more than most, was aware of how abnormal these times were. She was already under watch by the Aurors who had no doubt seen this animal enter the manor. They would need to see him leave.

       "Look, I don't know what you want, but you have nothing you can offer my kind."

       "I doubt that."

       "And what would you offer us? What can you offer us? Acceptance by the Ministry? You know as well I as I do, that that isn't going to happen. Money, wolfsbane potion? Sure, we'd like the money but I doubt we'd take a potion from you since you aren't a Potion Master."

       "Enough! If you are so sure I can't offer you anything," Narcissa began with a toss of her hair over one shoulder, "What do you want then? I find it so much easier if I don't assume and you tell me."

       "What do we want?" The werewolf was hard pressed not to snort in disgust. He wasn't sure what the Malfoy bitch had wanted when she'd asked via a rather roundabout route to speak to a werewolf but they should have known that she, like everyone else, needed someone to fight for them. And she wasn't even as tactful as the other offers. The Dark Lord had made his usual offer, the Ministry hadn't bothered but anyone who was astute from the Werewolves knew how to take up what they could give you and then there had been that third offer that seemed to be able to encompass everything. While he hadn't spoken to anyone representing that third offer, he knew that quite a few of the Pack Leaders had, and they believed it to be genuine, even if rather confusing. Despite that though, that offer had been made with respect, and several gestures of goodwill. Fighting for them might not be too bad. It would definitely be better than fighting for some stuck up rich bitch who would expect the world and blame them for everything that went wrong. He decided to tell her exactly what the werewolves wanted. "We _want_ nothing! We _demand_ equality from the Ministry. We _demand_ the right to be treated as human, to learn to use our Magic. We _demand_ to be treated with respect.

       "We don't want wolfsbane potion. We don't want money, we don't want anything like that. We don't need that. We need the rest."

       Naricssa sat back, once again running through a litany in her mind. The sheer _arrogance_ of the animal was astounding. She could remember something similar once when she was a Death Eater. The results had been satisfactorily messy as the Dark Lord did not tolerate such arrogance well. "Get out," she said finally.

       The beast didn't even bother to salute as it let itself out.

       For long moments, the halfling focused merely on breathing as she sought to calm herself down. So the werewolves wouldn't follow her. She should have known that they would already have given their allegiance to someone. Even if they hadn't, realistically she had nothing special to offer. The Dark Lord could offer victims, new sacrifices to turn into werewolves, the Ministry merely had to say they would enforce their laws and between those two that would account for ninety five percent of the werewolves. The other five probably just wanted to be left alone. So in the end, she had nothing really. Being surprised, being insulted by this would not change anything.

       What was surprising was the general lack of respect she could feel. The Malfoys were amongst the oldest and most powerful of the wizarding Houses. Regardless of anything else, they were usually given at least a modicum of respect. Maybe this is what Draco meant. She had known he wasn't finding it as easy as he should have to gather his House to his side. The usual respect they held for power and for those of ability seemed to be missing. It just made her previous thoughts that they may have to strike differently all the more true.

       He'd written several times this year, and each time she'd written back with words of advice and comfort. This last time, she hadn't bothered with any comforting note, but wrapped and sent back a book as quickly as she could. His letter this time had been weird, but she had read between the lines. He had finally realised that he was under some sort of memory charm and needed further information on how to remove it. It should be simple enough, even if a bit painful so she wasn't concerned.

       What she needed to do now was think. The werewolves were definitely out. The vampires were already fighting... There were not that many non-human groups who were not already involved. The United Kingdom had a small population of Veela but not enough to make that much of a difference. The merpeople would remain in their own domain and the Dark Lord had already taken control of the Dementors. Witches and Wizards were split between Ministry and the Dark Forces and those who had felt some sympathy to her cause had been used by her husband. The Tenshi probably didn't even know or care that there was a war going on, and the rest of Europe was doing their best to ignore them. No, that wasn't right. The rest of Europe was very interested in their war to the point they had patrols and guards to ensure that no one launched strikes into their territory. There was some support there, but it was mostly Ministry to Ministry.

       And that left a third party such as herself where she always thought they were. Alone. Gathering support was going to be too slow. By the time they had sufficient support to be able to attack openly, the Dark Lord would have already toppled the Ministry. She was going to have to strike in private, and leave the Ministry wondering how or who destroyed the Lord they had been unable to defeat.

===

       Harry sat in Dumbledore's office. For the past few days, things had been quiet. There hadn't been any attacks by Death Eaters, which usually meant they were planning something big. Whatever it was he would be ready but he wasn't sure why he had been called to the Headmaster's office today. Fawkes had remained on his perch but seemed fretful. That more than anything said that something was wrong. Usually the fire bird was calm and composed and wanted him to stroke the red plumage. Harry had finally worked out why the bird sought him out, and it wasn't because of his affinity for Light. Contact made for a far less intrusive mind scan. The fact that Fawkes was not demanding cuddles today either meant he was still angry about Halloween and the supposed shadow attack or the Phoenix was beginning to trust him. The black haired young man hoped it was the later.

       He waited while the Headmaster pottered around for a few minutes more before eventually settling in his desk. "Lemon drop?" the offer was almost perfunctory. He declined anyway and continued waiting.

       "Well, my lad, how are things?"

       "Very good," Harry replied honestly. Since Halloween things had been better. He felt more relaxed and the few missions Auror Captain Sturges had called him on had gone well. The Auror had not used his abilities as completely as that first time but had instead had him work with his men and women, learning how the Aurors usually worked. As the missions were mostly clean up in the wake of an attack, there was little risk to anyone. The thought was that the Dark Lord had determined that they had been able to track him at Diagon Alley and he had responded in an unfortunately logical manner, by increasing the speed and viciousness of his attacks, though their patterns were still random. Unless they could anticipate an attack, then they would be on clean up for a while yet.

       It did not do much for the Auror's already fatigued morale.

       "That's very good to hear."

       The Shadow Lord resisted the urge to roll his eyes. All of this was information Dumbledore already knew. They had, after all, kept up their weekly meetings and Harry had discussed all sorts of things with the Headmaster this year; plans for destroying the Dark Lord, how his Mastery studies were going, how he was to work with the Aurors and the Order, hedged questioning on his mental state and his relationship with Ginny and his friends and how the shadows worked. The Headmaster had also begun to show Harry some memories of a young Tom Riddle and Harry was amazed at how little understanding the old wizard had. Could the old man not see the pain? Did he not care? Always afterwards Harry had shaken his head, astounded at the lack of foresight and compassion in the supposed 'Leader of the Light'.

       "I called you here early because something has happened."

       "Oh?"

       "One of the Order has gone missing."

       "Professor Snape," Harry said with certainty.

       "How did you know?"

       He smiled and wondered if he was meant to hear the suspicion in the ancient wizard's voice. Probably not, Harry decided, since Dumbledore's expression showed nothing but grandfatherly concern. He was, if nothing else, a superlative actor, just that Harry was better. Growing up as he had, he had _had_ to be. "Sir, my lesson in sword fighting was last night," Harry said gently. "Professor Snape was not there, and a few inquiries showed that he hasn't been teaching the last few days, so it's not a difficult assumption to make."

       Beneath the twinkling eyes, the suspicion faded as the Headmaster realised that the simple explanation was the truth. "This wasn't planned," Dumbledore said finally. "When Professor Snape leaves for business, I allow a few days in case Tom has any long term plans. That time is up, and Severus has yet to notify me. I am concerned that he underestimated the danger he was in and has been captured."

       Harry just nodded at the words.

       "You have been blocking the Dark Lord Harry and I commend you for that, but I find myself having to ask if there has been any leakage of happiness from him?"

       Harry shook his head. "No, but I've been blocking the link extensively." Once it became clear that all Lord Voldemort's knowledge had been within his mind, Harry had stopped holding back and had begun using what he could and that included having to skip all the tedious lessons on Occlumency with Snape. He had paid specific attention to the link to the Dark Lord and had made sure that Fawkes knew he was building particularly thick walls around it. The phoenix, and therefore Dumbledore, thought it was to avoid having Voldemort spy on him and so that the Dark Lord's happiness did not cause him pain. They didn't even dream it was so that he could keep a lid on his hormones, that if he was in constant contact with his beloved, their entire plan would be for nothing. After a moment of silence, green eyes looked up into the blue eyes of the Headmaster. "I can take some of the shielding off and peek," he offered. It was the type of thing he'd be expected to do.

       Fawkes trilled at him and Harry smiled. The song of the fire bird was beautiful when he wished it and Harry waited for Dumbledore to reply.

       Eventually the old wizard sighed. "I think that would be best."

       "Okay, give me a moment," Harry said, squirming slightly as he settled himself more comfortably. An Occlumency master would have just removed the shielding and while he was capable of that, he was trying to show that he was still adjusting. He was trying to show that he could use the information but that it was not so much a part of him that he did it without thought. Green eyes closed as Harry sent himself into a light trance and fell through the layers of his mind. He felt Fawkes with him, the fire bird riding on his mental shoulder as he descended into the part of his mind where he kept memories he wasn't fond of. It was where he had stashed the mental manifestation of his link to the Dark Lord, though Harry was working on a new place for it, somewhere much nicer, it could not yet be revealed. Around him, in trunks and chests that were covered in defensive runes were memories he didn't look at, his childhood, all the men, Millicent and Blaise and a few others. It said a lot about his life that he had more than one area like this, the memories firstly ringed with defensive runes, some wrapped deep in _other_ memories and the entire area was surrounded by his magic for light, warmth and comfort. And these were just the memories the Fire Bird was allowed to see, memories that the Fire Bird knew existed. He had other places, wrapped behind the curtain of darkness where his true self resided where he kept the memories of his beloved, of the feeling of his claws cutting into the muggles and of how it felt to watch them die. Xaos was hidden there, closely guarding quite a few memories and the knowledge that he was loved absolutely. When this year was up, Harry fully intended to shift his mental landscape around so that each memory of the muggle paedophiles would be paired with the memory of their death and with the feeling of his own satisfaction and the Dark Lord's approval. Unknowingly Harry smiled. That made for a nice thought, though he did wonder idly, how much more crowded his mental landscape could get.

       Carefully he exposed the mental manifestation of his link to the Dark Lord and he brought it to the surface of his mind. Fawkes watched the entire time, never moving from his spot as Harry unravelled the defensive runes before he unfastened the mental buckles on the leather straps that held the chest closed. The chest was not locked. He'd been warned about that and knew better than to completely lock away memories. They came back later at the most inconvenient time, but securing them was allowed, hence the travelling straps on the trunk. He glanced towards Fawkes and the fire bird nodded before Harry slowly lifted the lid.

       For a moment nothing happened, then with a burst of light Harry found himself looking at unfamiliar surroundings. He was looking down into a large room. There were stone columns lining it and the floor was red and appeared smooth. It was cold and lying very still on the floor was a familiar man in tattered robes. His body was lying on his back, his head titled back to provide the Dark Lord with eye contact. The Lord Voldemort was engrossed in the task at hand and his concentration was impressive. Harry could see a few Death Eater's but they were acting as guards and he knew there was a Dementor to the Dark Lord's left. His vision wasn't quite right though. Everything living was surrounded by a nimbus and things that weren't were dull. The Shadows up in the rafters were a bottomless black but they were outlined in the thinnest line of pure white and with a small start, Harry realised this is how his beloved saw everything. His eyes, much like the rest of him, were no longer completely human.

       Despite the shock he did nothing to give himself away, Harry was sure of that, but in the Dark Lord's mind something changed. Fawkes squawked and Harry sensed the fire bird retreating, before a wave of happiness washed over them both. In Dumbledore's office, Harry felt his hands instinctively press over his scar and Fawkes' retreat was halted.

       The Dark Lord definitely had Snape and he was incredibly happy about it but under the happiness, Harry could sense something else, a deeper contentment. He caught the image of Hogwarts but it was not quite as he knew it and it took Harry a moment to realise what was wrong. There were no students on the battlements, but Death Eaters. It didn't feel like a wish, it felt like a plan and the implication was obvious. The Dark Lord was going to attack Hogwarts and he fully expected to win.

       :I think you've seen enough,: there came a chiding voice that echoed around him and with a feeling that was like a kick in the guts Harry found himself and his passenger forcibly removed from the Dark Lord's mind. The link between them slammed closed and dimly Harry could feel the Lord Voldemort reinforcing his side.

       Green eyes snapped open and Harry gasped as he came back to himself. Fawkes trilled though his voice was tinged with pain. After a few more desperate breaths, Harry looked over towards Dumbledore where the old wizard sat and watched. "He's definitely got Professor Snape," Harry said, wheezing slightly and showing a rare moment of respect for the Potion Master. "But," the black haired boy continued, gulping as he tried to calm down. "It also looks like he plans to attack Hogwarts... soon. I don't know when but there was snow on the ground." He remembered how beautiful Hogwarts had looked, draped in the soft velvet of winters embrace.

       The Headmaster nodded and turned towards his familiar. Something seemed to pass between them before twinkling blue eyes looked back towards their weapon.

       "Thank you Harry. Are your Occlumency shields back in place?"

       "Yes," he said with certainty. Almost in the instant Voldemort had thrown him out of his mind, Harry had been putting his shields back in place. The brief touch was enough to throw his senses into disarray and there was a burning need coiling, building in his abdomen. He wouldn't be returning to the Dormitory tonight.

       "Then thank you for your service. I'll let you know what happens with Professor Snape," the ancient wizard spoke in clear dismissal and Harry nodded as he rose. He already had a fair idea what would be happening; nothing. There was very little they could do to help the Potion Master, which is exactly what the Shadow's had wanted.

       Severus would join them soon and that was just the beginning. Harry smiled, looking back over his shoulder. It was only a matter of time now.

===

       Harry let himself out of Headmaster's office and quickly headed towards the room he had been assigned. Fawkes was occupied, which was just as well, because the brief touch of Voldemort's mind to his had sent his senses and his hormones into over drive.

       He _needed_ the Dark Lord, but he wasn't about to get him, not tonight and unlike other nights where he could control his need, where his need came from his own desire, this time it was because of their intimate contact. Dumbledore had no idea what he had asked Harry to do, no idea of the consequences, though truth be told, neither had Harry.

       With no one to witness his spell casting Harry didn't bother to draw the yew wand as he sealed the room, casting more than a usual gamut of privacy charms with one hand while his other went for _his_ wand. He threw himself into the chair as he rubbed himself through his robes. Already he was uncomfortably tight and quickly he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down and scooping one hand into his underwear to draw out his shaft.

       Harry groaned as he caressed himself, using one hand to cup and kneed his balls while his other stroked up and down. He rubbed one thumb over the head of his cock on each upward stroke. Five seconds of contact with his Beloved, when they couldn't even express their affection had caused this. He suppressed an almost agonised moan at the thought of what being able to immerse himself in the Dark Lord's mind would do to him.

       He thrust his hips through little motions and Harry threw his head back, licking his lips as he thought of his lover. His hands were warm but it was not the same. This would give him release, but it was only physical release. It did nothing for his emotional desire. Still physical release was all he could have now. He closed his eyes, imagining red burning eyes upon him and a long fingered white hand pinching his nipples. One of his own hands raised, sliding its way under his shirt to tweak his nipples, first one then the other, making them hard with blood. He breathed deeply, clenching his teeth as the tightness in his body grew. His skin was on fire and Harry didn't even feel his claws grow as he shredded his garments. He kept one hand on his cock, paying particular attention to the head. He ran his fingers all over it, stroking, teasing, tracing over the bulb before he raised his hand to his mouth, tasting his pre-cum.

       It felt good but it was nothing. He was tight and hot but it was nothing like the sensation he got when he lay with his beloved. This was a pale shadow and Harry's top teeth gripped his lip, digging in but not drawing blood as both hands stroked his erection. It was a pleasurable friction and built on his desire. He imagined red eyes burning with lust, white skin flush and patterned like a serpent's. He imagined the taste on his tongue and he felt and indulged in his sheer raw desire.

       He stroked faster and faster, and with each upward stroke he ran gentle finger tips over the head and with each downward motion he ran one hand over his balls, rubbing them together, pushing them up against his straining cock. He began gasping, seeking release but something held him back. He was hot and he felt tense, the pleasure in his groin spreading through his body, tingling, making him feel alive. He needed this but he needed his beloved and as Harry came he screamed the name of his desire. " _Voldemort!_ "

       He came, the long jets of cum pouring from him, splattering on to his chest, over his hands and into the air to land on his legs and the chair and the floor. The mindless desire in him broke, the need faded to manageable levels leaving him gasping in the glow of his release. After a moment Harry shifted, waving his hands to clean up as he got to his feet breathing deeply to bring his heart beat under control. He forced his fingers to go back to normal and flexed them. He was becoming so used to his animagus form that sometimes he almost didn't feel right without claws.

       He closed green eyes, turning his face to the ceiling. Five seconds in his beloved's mind reduced him to a quivering mass of desire, of need and his release, while sweet was hollow. It was nothing like the mind blowing, soul comforting release he felt when he slept with his Beloved and Harry wondered, what would five days, five months, five years of returned desire, returned need do for him? What would it do for his lust, his love...

       Harry smiled. He was very much going to enjoy finding out.

===

       Voldemort held Severus's gaze with his own. The Potion Master was fighting him but it would only be a matter of time before his defences were unravelled. He hadn't had that much time to work on the man in the days since he'd been captured but already, the Dark Lord had found the desire to anger him so as to find death. That wasn't going to happen. He was curious though to know what the Phoenix was doing but so far his former spy had kept that information from him.

       Snape's robes hung around him, ripped and torn and they probably did nothing against the pervasive cold of the dungeon but the Dark Lord didn't care. He was slightly surprised the Shadows hadn't taken the Potion Master but for the past few days they had been scarce.

       :We've been busy,: they said as if summoned by his thoughts.

       Xoui raised her head to look at the inky darkness the coalesced on the floor before she once again appeared to go back to sleep, coiled around the Dark Lord's body. Anyone who knew anything about Basilisks though could tell that she was faking, the tip of her tail twitched far too rhythmically as she listened.

       "Oh," Voldemort turned away from Snape, ignoring the way the man slumped against the wall. In many ways he would have to thank the Shadows, Snape would go to them but it appeared he would get the satisfaction of torturing the traitor as well.

       :We finally found them.:

       "Found whom?"

       :Xuld, Xal and Xentor.:

       Xoui hissed and gave up the pretense. "Where?"

       :Where do you think?: The Shadows did not bother to hide their scorn. :Where we suspected they were, but have only now been able to penetrate and only because she has been distracted.:

       Xatarass came to the fore with a long hiss. "Are they in immediate danger?"

       :We don't think so. The woman doesn't seem to be gathering for a major attack.:

       The serpent seemed to nod in understanding as man and basilisk thought about their upcoming schedule and dates of power. The next full moon was a blue moon which would be best for destroying wards on a one to one basis. "Thank you for the confirmation, I will fetch them with all haste," the basilisk said before looking towards Xoui. "Go tell the others that vengeance will be within our coils shortly." The smaller basilisk nodded and slithered to the ground before exiting the cell.

       "Now," Voldemort said, turning back towards Snape. "Where were we?" He pushed his mind out and once again slammed into Severus defences. Once he knew the extent of Severus' betrayal he could move on to other punishments. He would just have to apologise to Harry if he killed him before the Shadows took the Potion Master.

===

       Sirius sat back, relaxing. He'd spoken to almost every non-human he could, gathering support for the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix and finally, after months on the road, he was able to report back. Tomorrow or the next day he'd be at Hogwarts and he'd be able to at least give Remus his moral support for the upcoming Blue Moon and he'd be able to spend some time with his Godson. He missed them both more than he thought possible.

       :Could you delay?:

       The wizard didn't even deign to answer that question with a snarl.

       :We mean it, could you delay?:

       "I have spent months on the road, wasting my time, trying to find a whole lot of creatures who did not want to be found. I have wanted to be back at Hogwarts with Harry and Remus and _now_ you ask me to delay?" There were times when the Shadows made sense to Sirius, when the goals were so clear and their actions so understandable that he forgot they weren't human. And then there were times like this, when they were completely and utterly out of line.

       :Think about it,: the Shadow's said, unconcerned at the anger they could feel from the canine animagus. :Once you get back, every hour of every day will be watched, and assigned and busy. Both Dumbledore and the phoenix will have things for you to do, and sure you will get some time with our Master and with Remus but it will not be much and it will all be watched, if not by the Order, then by the vampires. Out here though, you are a free agent, you can come and go and all you have to do is report in every once in a while.:

       Sirius closed black eyes. "What do you want done?" he asked. The Shadow argument was persuasive and true, but that meant nothing. They wanted something. He could feel it, just as he could feel their ingenious little smile.

       :A few little things, most of which are far more easily accomplished without watchers and are preparatory for what will happen.:

       "Such as?"

       :As soon as Remus wins that battle, you know the Werewolves will be joining us. It would be nice if we had the initial preparation done to make them feel welcome,: the Shadows said without actually saying anything concrete about what they wanted done.

       "What do you want done?" Sirius asked again.

       :We want you back with our Master,: the Shadow's said, suddenly changing track. The canine animagus recognised one of the older Shadows taking the lead. :Never doubt that, because we want someone guarding his back, but we need preparations made as well or else we will fail. You have a unique role in Wizarding society Sirius and in the next year, you are going to have to use that position, but for now, your best ability is your relative freedom from observation.:

       "How much longer?"

       :Christmas, at the latest. We are not sure how one or two things will work out but if they are not settled before then, it won't make a difference.:

       "There is really no other way?"

       :There are other ways,: the Shadows admitted. :They just aren't as efficient or easy. Why do you think it was Dumbledore and the phoenix wanted you on this mission?:

       Sirius blinked as the Shadows seemed to change track yet again. He'd learned though that often when they seemed to change the topic, they were actually presenting something from a different point of view. Now why had Dumbledore sent him on this mission? "Because I had the name and the ability to find those who didn't want to be found," the canine animagus said slowly. That was the reason the Headmaster had given him anyway.

       :That's part of it,: the Shadows agreed, :But not everything. There are others in the Order who could have found any creature and negotiated. Why you? Why did he want a veritable celebrity to be out of the lime light? And you are a celebrity you know. You are the only man known to have escaped Azkaban and with your exoneration with the capture of Petrigrew, you are an honourable warrior who was wrongfully imprisoned. That plays well for the papers, not to mention the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. _All_ of that plays well for the papers... So why were you sent into the middle of nowhere?:

       "Why me?" Sirius questioned idly as he thought. He hadn't really had any plans for this year beyond fighting and he really was just one fighter... But the way the Shadows phrased their question raised another. Why did Dumbledore want him away? Why didn't he want him spending time with Harry? Because that's essentially what he was missing out on wasting time out in the middle of nowhere. What was so wrong with him spending time with Harry?

       :Perhaps because you would have insisted things be done properly,: the Shadows voice suggested slyly.

       "What's happened?"

       :Our Master is serving with the Aurors, though in a limited manner. He's enrolled in four Masteries.:

       "Four?" Sirius couldn't keep the pride out of his voice, though the Auror news was worrying.

       :Yes; Transfiguration for his Father, Charms for his Mother, Defence Against the Dark Arts for himself and Care of Magical Creatures for fun,: the Shadow's voice also echoed with pride.

       "Go back to the Aurors. I made myself _very_ clear on that matter."

       :You did. Too clear it seems and the phoenix was never one to let little things like rules get in his way. The Order needed a weapon. Our Master is that weapon. And no matter how young, or how unprepared, our Master had to fight this year. There was no way Dumbledore or the Phoenix would have allowed anything else. They couldn't afford to. And no protective Godfather was going to stop them.

       :Now that they have him in combat, you will be allowed some time with him, but they wish to control him. Since we, and you, know exactly how controlled our Master is, we don't mind but later in the year, he is going to need _you_ as his guardian to help.:

       "Such as?"

       :Oh little things. He needs to visit Gringotts and you can escort him without either Dumbledore or the Phoenix thinking anything about it. And there will likely be some Wizengamot sessions. _But_ before that can happen, the Phoenix and the Headmaster need to believe they have complete control.:

       Sirius laughed, the noise like the barking of a dog before he sobered. The day would come when Dumbledore, when the entire Order would know exactly who they had given their future to without checking. It was their own fault. No one asked the obvious questions. They assumed that even after everything they _knew_ had happened to Harry that he would still go along with them. _What_ reason did they give Harry to trust him when they had made such bad decisions? Even he had made bad decisions. He wouldn't do so again though, that's why he was currently doing everything in his power to help Harry now.

       He'd seen how much Harry loved the Dark Lord and even more surprisingly he'd seen the reciprocation from a man he had considered evil incarnate. That was enough for him. As unlikely as it was, the Dark Lord _would_ see to it that Harry was both loved and happy. And he, the last of the Black's had promised James that he would see to it that Harry happy and if allying with the Dark Lord made Harry happy then that is what Sirius would see happen. The rest of the wizarding world would just have to live with it, somehow.

       :It won't be that bad,: the Shadow's interrupted his thoughts. :With our Master's influence, we think you will find the policies to be more than acceptable. They will certainly be more fair than the current Ministry.:

       Black eyes closed almost tiredly and Sirius sighed. "What do you want me to do now?"

       :We promised the werewolves Wolfsbane potion and the supplies need to be purchased and the lab stocked.:

       "You have a Potion Master?"

       The Shadow's actually laughed. :You are going to love them.:

       "I'm going to hate them," Sirius sighed. "Just tell me it's not Snape."

       The Shadows were silent.

       " _Snape?! You have to be kidding me!"_

       :He is a good Potion Master,: they said somewhat defensively.

       "He's probably the best in the world," Sirius said in a rather uncharacteristic admission. "But that doesn't mean I like Snivalus."

       :Thankfully, you won't need to deal with him much, if at all.:

       "All right, I'll delay but you owe me."

       :We are going to owe everyone before the year is out,: the Shadow's grumbled.

       The canine animagus laughed. "Probably," he said with a degree of happiness he never really expected to feel. "Though, while you and I have time now, I want an explanation about something."

       The Shadow's seemed to look him up and down. :What's wrong?:

       "Nothing's wrong," Sirius said "but I want you to explain what you meant when you said you don't feed anyone power, you only enhance or guide already existing power."

       :It means exactly what it sounds like. All the things you have done, you have done using your own power.:

       "There is no way I could kill vampires like I did in the Atrium," he objected.

       :Sure there is,: the Shadow's replied. :You have the power and you killed them. We simply guided the way you used that power, helped it along a different path than the one you usually use, a path that made it more lethal to vampires.:

       Sirius was silent for long moments as he thought, "So that's why after doing things for you, sometimes I feel so tired?"

       :Yes. You are using your own power, your own magic, we are just guiding it a little, making it more precise for example, more accurate.:

       "When I broke into the Auror Headquarters and took out those guards, it was you who angled the shield so precisely?" Sirius remembered that. He'd cast the shield, expecting it to block the stunning spells of the Aurors and it had, but it had done more, it had rebounded the spell directly into one of the other guards. He had been vaguely aware that a wizard of Dumbledore or even the Dark Lord's calibre had that level of fine control over their spells, but it was a skill he never thought to have for himself, even if it was applied from the outside.

       :Yep!: the Shadow's admitted happily. :Think about it. What have you done in our service that you could not have done under your own power? Oh we've honed and guided, especially in that fight with Kisha, we showed you how to move, but it was _your_ power that did all the work. In the Auror Headquarters, we merely acted as eyes and ears, letting you know where everyone was and how fast you needed to move. It was you apparated in, and cast the magic to take down the guards. It was you who took down the warding runes and who did everything else.:

       The Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black was silent and seemed to be deep in thought. The Shadows were admitting to something else here... He just couldn't see what but he could feel it. Their admission was too easy, they were too calm. "Wait a second! I apparated through Hogwarts Wards... _How_ did I do that?"

       :This is the problem with Wizards, you think wards are completely solid. Wards usually come from Runes. Runes are lines, and even if they encircle each other, there is always a gap somewhere. It's usually too small for anyone to notice, a micro-millimetre but if you know where it is, you can slip through it.:

       "And all that is a lovely explanation which means nothing," Sirius snorted. He recognised bullshit when he heard it, even if it was remarkably logical and almost believable.

       :Eh, it was worth a try. The truth is so much more boring. Hogwart's let you through, just as Hogwart's always let's our Master through.:

       "How is that possible?"

       :The original magic that makes Hogwarts what it is came in part from Godric Gryffindor. Despite his reluctance to use our power, and to acknowledge his full heritage, it still formed his magic. All the wards, old and new for Hogwarts pull on the original magic that created the castle. And if all the wards pull on the original magic, and we are a part of that original magic, then doesn't it follow that we can manipulate it?:

       "That's fine, but I _don't_ have your power or even the signature of your power."

       :Unfortunately, you do. You aren't meant to, but you do. Remember what we had to do to revive our Master after that brat killed him?:

       Sirius nodded. How could he forget that?

       :It changed you as well. Not as much, because you aren't our Master, you don't really have the ability to support us. But it changed your magic signature enough that when we back it, when we support it, anything looking for our power will see it reflected in your power and will therefore recognise you as a part of us. That's what happened when you apparated through the Hogwart's wards. The castle itself recognised you as us, and hence as a part of its foundational magic and it allowed you through.:

       "All right. That at least makes more sense now. Though how the hell did I get into the Dark Lord's stronghold? Because you aren't going to trick me into thinking his wards share a part of your magic, or that they have _gaps_!"

       :Why are wizards never happy?: The Shadow's muttered the question to themselves. :Our Master goes through the Dark Lord's wards in two ways, sheer power and by unconsciously asking his Lover's magic to recognise him. They are linked at such a level that they don't even realise it. You got through...: the Shadow's trailed off. :Actually we aren't sure how you got through... We didn't even think about it at the time, we just made sure you could get through...:

       Sirius laughed, but he did not feel merry. "Great, just great. So for all you knew, I could have splattered up against his wards?"

       :No! We said we made sure you could get through and we did. Splattering wasn't an option. We'll have to ask one of us who is with the Dark Lord. They will know how you did it.:

       "Well... At least you didn't say it was magic," Sirius said softly. Once they admitted they weren't sure, he'd been half expecting that explanation, though he still had the feeling he was missing something, and it wasn't how he apparated through the Dark Lord's wards. It was something bigger, something that would change everything.

       :Actually,: a different Shadow voice said with a speculative note, :what if both our Master and Sirius go through the Dark Lord's wards because he's already opened them up to our power? Our Master could use power to get through them, or he could use his link, but I don't think he did. I think the wards recognised him and therefore us. After all, if the Dark Lord has an alliance with us, wouldn't we want our servants to be able to come and go? And that's what the Ministry and the vampires believe Sirius and our Master to be... our _servants_ who occasionally render service to the Dark Lord.:

       "Check for me," Sirius said. "Because I don't want to find out I used a hole the first time that he's now closed up so I get splattered the second time. And I know you, there _will_ be a second time."

       :We will, because we want to know ourselves.:

       He still felt like he was missing something but that it would come to him in time. "I want you to teach me something."

       :Hmm?:

       "Whatever I did to the Vampires, I want you to teach me to do that consciously - without your guidance."

       :We can do that,: the Shadow's said though Sirius could detect a small note of doubt in their voice. It wasn't about his ability though, it felt like it was about something else.

       "What do you doubt?"

       :It's been a long time since we had to teach so we hope our explanations are acceptable, rather than instinctual.:

       "And it's been a while since I've been a student, so don't worry, I'll just keep complaining until I get it."

       :We are sure you will. Can you cast the Fidel Charm still?:

       "Yes, what do you need me to hide?"

       :Nothing yet, but soon.:

       Sirius nodded before he sat back again, looking up at the sky. The air was cold but he didn't feel a chill and the almost full moon was just beginning to rise. "Go away now," he said suddenly. "I want to contemplate what insanity has made me agree with you to delay." And he wanted to think about what he was missing with the Shadow's admission that it was his power that had done everything.

       :Good night Sirius,: the Shadows said by way of farewell and the sense of their presence faded as the canine animagus settled down for the night.

       Another month wasn't that bad, not if it meant their eventual victory and not if the others were busy... But so help him, if Dumbledore got Harry injured in that month... there would be hell to pay. The Dark Lord would have to race him to see who could kill the ancient wizard first because Sirius was sick and tired of all the short cuts and bad decisions everyone seemed to make around his Godchild. It would end. It had to end and he would see that Harry was happy, no matter the cost to the rest of the world.

===

       Harry sat with Hermione and the others in an empty class room. Ron and Neville were busy scribbling a Potion essay. Even with Snape missing, no one was neglecting their homework. They were here mostly for the company. Luna and Ginny were also present but the two of them were so deeply engrossed in a project it was doubtful that they even knew where they were. He'd helped Hermione go through some Arithmancy homework earlier and now she was running ideas by him. When the news about Azkaban had broken he'd been unable to ask her if she could come up with a way of killing Dementors, but he'd managed to slip the question to her a couple of days later, and give her the information on the one method currently known to kill them. The muggle-born witch had been as horrified as expected about the amount of effort it took to kill one and had promised to think about other methods.

       She had, and now she was running them by him to see if he thought any would work. Harry was actually of two minds. Yes, it took a lot of energy to kill a Dementor but so what? The Dementors were loyal to the Dark, they would not attack him or anyone loyal to the Shadows so why did he want them dead? Or a method to kill them? Yes, sure he was the Light's Weapon but this could perhaps be going too far to prove his worth. They already had to use him and he was already proving that he was indispensable, he didn't have to go further and besides, he already had a method that was a _lot_ simpler than the Ministry method and he was not about to share that information with them.

       "You never ask me easy questions, do you Harry?" Hermione mocked complained with a smile. The harder the question the better she liked it and Harry knew that.

       "So what did you find out?"

       "They really are disgusting creatures," the brown haired young woman shuddered. "I honestly don't know why the Ministry has dealings with them... Or had dealings with them. I came up with a few ideas but I don't know if they will work."

       "What are they?" Harry asked gently.

       "High level fire charm, something like Fiend Fyre."

       Harry shook his head after considering it. He'd never read it, but he could clearly see the words on a classified report held by the Unspeakables about what Fiend Fyre did to Dementors. It stopped them but it did not destroy them, not completely. And mostly they just rose out of its range. There was some thought that if you could trap them in an enclosed area with the fire then it might be acceptable, but who wanted to go down with them? That particular theory might work but had never knowingly been tested.

       "That seemed the most likely one," Hermione said, before looking down at her list again. "Other high level elemental spells aren't likely to work. Earth, air, water, while they have destructive power, they tend to leave bits and that won't work on a Dementor."

       "That's true. You have to destroy them completely."

       :Or eat them completely.:

       :Shush you!:

       "The problem is the way they are put together," Hermione mused. "They actually have no soul, which should make them easy to kill but actually makes it harder since they aren't _alive_ in the way we think about it."

       "So like a vampire?" Harry provided the question though he already knew the answer.

       "Yes, like a vampire, though given that vampires are comparatively easy to kill I think they still maintain a connection to their souls. A dementor has had its soul removed so there is no lingering connection. I tried finding out if Dementors die naturally."

       Harry raised one eye brow. That was an interesting question and one he hadn't considered. Did Dementor's die naturally? They would almost have to... eventually... They were soulless and they did have a physical presence as well as a magical one but neither of those _could_ be eternal. The physical body if nothing else would eventually collapse into dust. It would take centuries but it would happen, which might explain the Dementors affinity for ice. Ice would preserve their bodies for as long as possible... which suggested that if you accelerated their decomposition, you might be able to kill them more easily. So a chronological charm combined with heat and maybe a farming fertilising charm...? Hopefully Hermione hadn't thought about this.

       Hermione had continued speaking while he'd been considering. "But no one knows if they do or they don't. And I don't think they'd answer that question so I had to go on to something else. Emotional charms like the cheering charm probably wouldn't work though it might confuse them for a little while."

       "They don't work," Harry said with a small smile. "They've been tried. Let's face it, the cheering charm is one of the first we learn and because of that, it's one of those charms plenty of people practice when trying to train themselves in wandless magic. As a result, it's been cast on Dementors a fair bit and it doesn't do anything to them."

       "I should have known," the muggleborn witch sighed. "So emotive charms are a bust?"

       "I'm afraid so."

       "Regional affect charms are also out."

       "Yes, those are pretty ineffective."

       "Darn it!" Hermione huffed. "I can think of plenty of things to slow them down but destroying them is another matter! You could dimensionally shift them but that isn't fair on the dimension they get dumped in... though there is one method I thought of but I don't know how you could possibly try it."

       "What is it?" Harry asked with some interest, thankful that Hermione seemed to have left out a few proposals.

       She looked sick but gulped and continued. "Dementors are so indestructible because they aren't really alive. I don't suppose you could interrupt their magic streams?" She asked suddenly.

       "You might be able to on a one to one basis," Harry said without giving it much thought. Interrupting their internal magic stream was a part of the Ministry proscribed method of destroying Dementors. "But on a large scale, no. You've got to think about them almost like witches and wizards in that manner, what you can do to one, you can't necessarily do to a group, at least, not at the same time."

       "Well that leaves the other way. If Dementor's aren't really alive, then if you could somehow make them alive in the way we know it, then they might be more destructible."

       "So how do you make them more alive?"

       At this Harry swore that Hermione actually turned green. "They aren't alive because they have no soul. To make them alive, you'd have to give them at least a bit of a soul..." she whispered the last.

       Harry was surprised. He knew the witch would consider all options but that one was... It made him feel sick as well. How... where did you get a bit of soul from? Souls were... Souls were sacred. You wouldn't want to use your own and you couldn't in good conscious use anyone else's... And then there was the fact that it might not work... Harry frowned as he considered it... It probably would work but he really didn't want to try it. He looked over at Hermione. She seemed downcast, though he didn't think she was disappointed. "I think... I think that would work," Harry heard himself say. "But I don't think anyone would want to try it." He added the last with a soft smile.

       She smiled back at him, laughing softly. "I don't think so either. So they are still unkillable."

       "I'm afraid so," Harry sighed. "But tell me what your ideas were to slow them down, I think I'll probably need them."

       Hermione smiled and pulled out another list. "I thought you might," she said.

       Harry grinned at her, "Thank you," he said sincerely. "It may not seem like much to you Hermione, but this does mean more than you know."

       "It's no problem Harry, it really is no problem. I'm happy to help."

       "Just being there is a help," Harry said sincerely and was slightly surprised that he meant it. Knowing that they were there for him, knowing that while they didn't understand everything his friends were trying to be good friends to him was enough. He hoped their friendship would continue but for now, just being there was enough. He smiled at Hermione and said nothing. There was nothing more he could say.

      

      


	33. Acceptance

Weapon   
Chapter 33 Acceptance

       Sirius resisted the urge to curse the creature in front of him. It would be in character but it would not get him answers. Currently he was standing in an Apothecary. It was the sixth Apothecary he had been to today. The Shadows needed the ingredients for Wolfsbane potion and they needed it in large quantities delivered every month. Once anyone got records of what was being supplied, they would know what was being made. They Shadows didn't care but they weren't going to make it obvious, so each Apothecary had an order for a different ingredient. It was a flimsy enough security measure but it was all they could do.

       Except of course, they now had Apothecaries trying to rip them off. He was currently in disguise as the Shadow agent which had been sufficient to intimidate some but this one was apparently made of sterner stuff. Of course, he did run one of the dingiest, dirtiest places in Knockturn Alley so he would have to be tough. It didn't do Sirius any good though. He simply wanted the potion ingredients, a supply for now and an ongoing monthly delivery. All of which he was prepared to pay for handsomely; some extra commission was not unexpected for them to keep their mouths shut, but he was not prepared to be blatantly ripped off.

       "If you are incapable of providing what I need," Sirius said with an over exaggerated amount of reasonableness, "then there is no shame in telling me and I will move on."

       "Oh no, no, I can get your stuff... It's so rare that someone wants just one ingredient in such quantity so I'm curious as to why."

       "You don't need to know why," Sirius said shortly.

       "You see, this is where we have a problem," the Apothecary said, trying to sound sure of himself. "I make it a policy not to sell such large quantities of what is a very dangerous ingredient without knowing my customer. In fact, it's not just my policy, it is Ministry policy. And you aren't prepared to leave a name, though your face is known well enough. Perhaps I would be better off just reporting you."

       Sirius smiled, and though the Apothecary could not see it behind his mask, he definitely saw the change in his eyes. Oh... he did so _hope_ that the man would call the Ministry. That would make things so much easier, though perhaps it wouldn't get him the ingredient, it would make him feel a lot better. "Please," Sirius invited. "Call the Ministry; that will make things so much simpler."

       "Oh, I'm sure you can kill me, or rough me up or any number of unpleasant options but it's not worth your time. My little security camera, a very nice Muggle invention has already spotted you and if anything happens, then that picture will be sent to the Aurors and to a fair number of others. I know you don't fear the Ministry, but those others will cause you problems, no matter how powerful you are. Just pay my price and things will be easy."

       :Can you do something?: Sirius asked the Shadow's silently.

       :We already are doing something,: they said with a note of anger in their voice. :You aren't our only agent Sirius, just you are our only helper at the moment. The others have just received orders to destroy this... hindrance.:

       Silently Sirius chuckled. :You really don't take annoyances well do you?:

       :The amount we are prepared to pay is more than generous. This one is just being greedy.:

       :Can I walk out?:

       :Pay for delivery for this month, but we will get someone else for the future,: the Shadow's spat.

       Black eyes burned as Sirius glared before he threw a bag of galleons on to the counter. "The ingredients," he ground out.

       "You see how easy it is?" The Apothecary said, grabbing for the bag.

       Sirius slammed his knife down between the Apothecary's fingers. He didn't cut skin but it was enough to get the man's attention. "Don't be stupid," the man said.

       "I'm not the one being stupid," Sirius said happily. "I am prepared to pay generously but now I'll walk away and while I'm sure you can call your others to attempt to deal with me, I think you will find yourself a little busy. You know who I am and while you don't know who I work for, you should have known enough not to deny what is our very generous offer." With a harsh yank, Sirius pulled his knife back, flicking it around one finger before he resheathed it, stepping back slightly to allow the Apothecary to pick up the bag.

       "Whatever makes you feel happy," the man said without concern, pulling the bag of galleons to his side of the counter. He stepped back and turned to the shelves behind him, rummaging around for a moment or two before he turned back and placed a jar on the counter. "Your goods," he said Apothecary said happily.

       "Thank you," Sirius said, taking the jar and tucking it into one of his pockets before turning to leave. :How many more Apothecaries?: he asked as he walked out the door, pulling it firmly closed behind him.

       :Not many,: the Shadows said.

       :Is there any reason why you insist on _buying_ all the ingredients?:

       :Is the Ancient and Noble Lord feeling poor?:

       :No, but surely at least some of these ingredients can be grown?: Sirius felt the Shadow's pause and if they had eyes they would have been blinking them in surprise.

       :No one we control is the farming type,: they eventually said, though they didn't dismiss the idea outright.

       :That might be true,: Sirius said, glancing behind him. Ah... some people were so predictable. The Apothecary had sent some thugs after him. :I'm sure the werewolves would probably have a few who can farm, and even if they don't, for a wage, they'll learn.:

       Once again the Shadow's seemed to consider it though the canine animagus already knew that he was right. Some of the ingredients could be farmed, or collected. Maybe not enough for all the werewolves, but at least it would help, and if they were paying the werewolves then that would help towards keeping them safe. In the last month or so Sirius had gone over everything Remus had ever hinted or implied about werewolf society. The fact that they all helped each other out when necessary loomed pretty large in all their discussions. So employing werewolves was all for the good. :We will see what can be done,: the Shadows said before they seemed to look at him again. :Did you want to avoid these ones or indulge?:

       Sirius chuckled. :You have to ask?:

       :Duck down into that alley,: they instructed and Sirius obeyed easily, noticing that the path they had directed him to was covered in shadow... but it also stank. It was a good thing he wasn't in his dog form or he would have been overpowered by the smell alone. Oh well, at least it was private. Though he suspected he probably could fight them in Knockturn Alley and no one would really mind, so long as he didn't damage any property.

       :Now the one thing we will do,: the Shadow's said with a laugh, :is wrap around you so that when you stand in darkness you will be hidden.:

       Sirius looked around and spotted a box. It looked somewhat clean and fairly sturdy so he sat on it, drawing his wand to await developments. It didn't take long for the thugs to follow him, though they were cautious enough to place a guard at the entrance. "So, are you here to kill me, rough me up, or just find out who I am under this mask?" Sirius grinned as he asked the question, knowing that his voice probably appeared to come from nowhere. He looked the men over.

       They were wizards though they seemed to be the type who relied on brawn more than their magic, but Sirius knew from experience that they were probably adept in at least a couple of curses, which they wouldn't be shy about casting. Their robes were none to clean but appeared to be of good quality but that didn't matter. What he had to decide was if he wanted to kill them or just knock them out.

       One of the men laughed. They thought him trapped. How little they knew of the Marauders. "Do you have any idea how much your identity is worth? The Ministry will pay, the Dark Lord, the _Vampires_... Oh Merlin... will they pay!"

       "It's so nice to be appreciated."

       "Ya, it is and make no mistake Mister, we _do_ appreciate you."

       :Could you make it look like a vampire killed them?: the Shadows suddenly suggested and Sirius felt himself smile. It answered his question on knock out or kill, but it also added another aspect to the game. The Vampires currently enjoyed a fair level of public support. There were those who would never back them but in the interests of the 'Greater Good' they were keeping their concerns to themselves but on the whole the Wizarding Public was being told how helpful they were being in trying to fight the Dark Lord. They were also being extremely careful about how they fed. Xeoaph had them on a very tight leash and now that the canine animagus thought about it, he suspected the vampires were preying on any Muggles in the area. Most wizards wouldn't even consider that a problem; what were a few Muggles after all?

       "That's nice," Sirius murmured, throwing a charm forward as he stood and moved forward. He threw the first punch, chopping into one of the wizards' throats with a blow that left them gasping on the ground. Most would call it a dirty move but he didn't care. In a fight like this it didn't matter. Actually in any fight it didn't matter. You fought to win, nothing more. He knew first hand that history was written by the victors and they could put in any lies they wanted about honourable battle.

       He'd taken the initiative from the wizard thugs but they were quick to react and Sirius jumped back as several rather nasty hexes landed where he had been. He smiled and spun, punching one heavily in their stomach before kicking another between the legs. With a strangled howl of agony they went down, clutching their genitals. The rest of them were shouting that they couldn't see him. Sirius drew his wand, snapping off charms with a speed he'd learnt during the war. He was not the best dualist but he was no slouch and he was definitely good enough to take out a bunch of ruffians.

       : _Wait_! Not that one!: the Shadows yelled as he was about to turn his wand to one of the last standing thugs.

       Sirius' showed no reaction but altered the charm to a stunner before he took out the other few. The canine animagus rolled his eyes as the last of the thugs fell. "Well that was easy," he muttered, idly twirling his wand between his fingers.

       :Quality thugs are so hard to find,: the Shadows quipped before they turned serious. :Cast a blood draining spell and leave them here.:

       "What about that one?" Sirius indicated towards the one they had told him to stun as he drew his dagger with his left hand.

       :That one is a Death Eater,: they said disgusted. :We can't have him left dead with these ones, or no one would care. Killing Death Eaters won't incite the public, no matter who did it.:

       Sirius nodded. It made a lot of sense. "So I just dump him back on the Dark Lord?"

       :Something like that,: they said easily.

       The thugs he'd physically hit, he'd knocked unconscious with a charm, leaving all of them laid out. He bent over each of them, pricking their necks with two little marks before he cast the blood draining spell. It was a common enough medical spell which could in this situation be used to kill. Though this time it would drain enough blood out of the thugs and most would think that vampires had killed them. Any Auror worth his salt would be able to work out that it was a set up, but if some member of the wizarding public found them the rumour would run rampant. And that would suit the Shadows all the more.

       Sirius whistled a tune, picked up the unconscious Death Eater, and apparated out of the alley. Just a few more Apothecaries and then he would begin setting up the lab. He deliberately turned his mind away from the fact he'd most likely be chaperoning the Shadow's Potion Master, at least for a few days though he was kind of looking forward to Snivalus' reaction to two things. One, what they had done to his personal Potions Lab in his house and two, how badly he'd freak when he saw who he had to work with. The Shadows had at least given him a little time to get used to the idea.

       Sirius chuckled as he dumped the Death Eater on the door step of a house the Shadows assured him was Dark Lord controlled. Things were about to get interesting.

===

       Deep in his mind, Severus suppressed his hiss of pain as the assault on his shields was renewed. By now Dumbledore would have noticed that he was absent. They had agreed many years back that before any alarm was raised that three days would pass just in case the Dark Lord had any longer mission. Three days was long enough that he could send word if there was need. He was mildly surprised that he was still relatively all right. The Dark Lord had not spent as much time with him as he had expected. The dark haired man had no illusions about his Occulmeency under the brunt of a dedicated assault from the man he had called Lord.

       He just hoped that the Phoenix contacted him before the Dark Lord wore away his shields. It had been years since he'd had to face such a focused assault on his mental defences and he could feel that the Dark Lord had gotten stronger. His Legilmency was somehow more focused as he bent to the task. It was a sobering thought. Sixteen years back when the Dark Lord had been defeated, he'd been thought to be close to invincible; how could he be stronger than that time? And it wasn't as if Snape had learned nothing. He had been preparing for this day for years but his defences were fast falling. Some caused the Dark Lord pause, some he didn't even seem to see as he ripped them apart and Snape retreated further into the depths of his mind, reinforcing those shields he could.

       "Severus," the voice whispered to him and he closed his eyes, feeling warmth wash over him. Lily's voice always calmed him but the presence of the memory was worrying. That was one of his most well protected memories, hidden deep in his mind in a place where it could not be damaged, in a place where it was cherished and would be safe for all his life. If he had retreated this far already or that much damage had been done then he couldn't hold out much longer. Without thought he diverted some of his attention, reinforcing the barriers about his most precious memories. The memories of fear, the memories of hatred, the Dark Lord could have them. These soft, gentle memories of love, of the warmth he always felt when he thought of her, he could _never_ be allowed to touch them.

       "Severus," another voice sounded in the depths of his mind. It was harsh and cold and he recognised it at the Dark Lord's. He hadn't really reached that far into him, not yet but he was getting closer and the Occulmency barriers Snape had were being unravelled. Even in the depths of his mind, he could feel the sheer force of the dark magic surrounding him. He ignored the call and went back to reinforcing his shields.

       "Severus."

       " _What_!" Snape snarled, turning towards the noise. It was getting crowded in his mind. "Oh... Fawkes."

       The phoenix was a single flame manifested on a dull grey plain. While the bird had no eyes somehow he seemed to look around and see the damage the Dark Lord was inflicting. "Finally," Snape said. "It won't be long before he breaches the defences."

       "I can see that. How were you captured?"

       "It doesn't matter," the Potion Master shook his head. "You have to know, there is an attack coming, on Hogwarts, sometime around Christmas."

       The flame that was representing the Fire Bird dipped slightly in recognition of the information. "Anything else?"

       "Nothing of importance. He's still courting the werewolves, most of the Death Eaters have fully recovered and he doesn't _yet_ have a way to stop the Ministry's tracking. He will soon though. I don't know how, I just know it will be soon."

       Severus smiled. He had done his duty and agreement had already been reached about options in this situation.

       "No."

       The Potion Master frowned. "No? What do you mean no?"

       "I can't."

       "It was decided," Snape snapped. He didn't need to be in a situation like this. The consequences had already been discussed and his freedom guaranteed. Now the Fire Bird was refusing... Had the bird lost his nerve?

       "I can't."

       "You mean you _won't_."

       "It doesn't matter. You need to live."

       "Then you have to get me out of here."

       "I can't."

       "Then you want me to suffer?"

       "I want you to live."

       "Then _do_ something. You can track me, or you should be able to, so you can get me out of here. If you want me to live, then _you_ are going to have to do something. Else fulfil our agreement for this situation and end it. I'm ready."

       "You expect _me_ , a being of _Light_ , to kill you?"

       "I expect _you_ , a being of Light to _honour_ your word. You assured me you could do it. You assured me you _would_ do it. I knew the risks, I accepted the consequences and you agreed to give me freedom in this situation. If you won't do that, and you won't come to get me out, then _do not_ demand that I live. _Do_ not _demand_ anything from me. You took my word, you took my blood and abilities, yet you won't take my life? _Do not dare to betray me that way_!"

       "I cannot save you," the presence of Fawkes whispered to Snape but he was almost beyond hearing.

       " _You owe me_!"

       "And I cannot do what you wish," the Firebird's presence faded in his mind.

       " _Traitor_!" Snape screamed with uncharacteristic emotion. He'd been holding on to give Fawkes the information and because of the deal he'd worked out with Dumbledore and the phoenix. If he was trapped, _truly_ trapped and unable to be freed or to escape, with the Dark Lord hounding him, then they would grant him a clean death. And now the phoenix had reneged. He was a being of Light, Severus knew that but killing him in this situation was not an act of evil; it was a mercy. Those were the words the Phoenix had used when he'd questioned Fawkes about his ability to kill him in this exact situation. It appeared the so called being of light could _lie_.

       " _There_ you are!" A voice proclaimed with true satisfaction and a massive force pressed down on Severus with the announcement. He became aware of his last defences shattering. In his mind, the Dark Lord materialised, red robes perfect and the sense of his presence almost overwhelming.

       Red eyes flicked around and the Potion Master felt himself tense. It might be futile to try to defend the memories around him against a man who had already stripped away all his defences, but the Potion Master would try. "Ah, I see," the Dark Lord murmured and Snape felt sickened that in all likelihood the Serpent Lord probably did understand completely what this place and the memories that remained meant to him. After another moment Snape watched as his former Lord frowned. "I expected to find the Phoenix somewhere. Did I miss him?"

       Severus spat.

       "Ahahahaha, he left you. How like those who purport to be Light! Very few have the courage to keep their word when the going gets tough. Ah Severus... I did so wish I was wrong but I knew the instant you denied nothing that I was right' you had made your choice. A pity, for I have always respected your ability as a Potion Master and that alone was almost enough to spare you but you have given me no choice." The Dark Lord turned and Snape felt a tug at his consciousness. "Come along, I would leave this place as it is, to honour the woman."

       All at once, Snape felt himself rising through his mind. His surprise that the Dark Lord had left his most cherished memories whole and protected in his mind was instantly killed by pain as he regained consciousness. Severus felt his breath ripping through his throat as he laboured to draw air into his lungs. How was it that the Serpent Lord, the epitome of evil had shown him more respect in a few words and in his actions than the phoenix, a being that was meant to be pure light? The pain in his throat was dulled by the rising feeling of sickness.

       As the pain faded slightly and Snape forced himself to look around. The world was upside down, but that was because he was lying on his back, his head tilted to stare up at the Dark Lord who was seated in his throne. That explained where he was. The stone of the floor was freezing and as he groaned he rolled over, breaking eye contact with his former Lord. He looked down to see that the stone was still the smooth red he remembered when he had been brought before his Lord after being captured.

       "You've redecorated," he choked out and immediately felt like an idiot. He was not some punk bravado, yet he was acting like one.

       "Do you like it?" There was a smirk in the Dark Lord's voice. "One of my allies decided that some colour co-ordination was needed, though I admit, I still don't quite know what charm they used to freeze it. I will have to ask them. Now that you've joined us properly, I suppose I can get on with punishing you."

       There was the Lord he remembered, the merciless wizard who cared for nothing but his own power. Severus almost smiled at the predictability of it all as the air distortion that was the Cruciatus Curse flew towards him. Then it was all he could do to not scream in pain. With his mind shattered and his ability to hide behind any mental shields gone, he knew his defiance would not last for long.

       After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes the pain faded and Severus found himself gasping, feeling aches in his limbs from where they had repeatedly hit the floor. The phantom pain slowly leaked from his extremities but he felt weak and lethargic. There were a few Death Eaters lining the walls but they appeared just to be watching. As usual a few snakes were wound around the throne and Snape could feel a Dementor close by but he couldn't see it. Silently he questioned himself. Why was he even looking? He already knew he could not escape.

       "And again, maybe this time you will scream." The Dark Lord waved his hand again and once more the Cruciatus curse sprang forth. The fact that he could perform it wandlessly was not lost on Severus but he had no time to appreciate as once again his entire body seemed to burn, even while it froze. He arched back, his limbs slipping from his control as they convulsed, hitting the hard stone harshly. He twisted and turned, trying to seek relief, all the while knowing that there was nothing that could stop the pain of the curse. Even his breath hurt and he felt his eyes widen as he screamed and screamed and screamed.

       There was no end to the pain.

       And with another wave of the Dark Lord's white hand, the curse was cancelled and he could suddenly breathe again. He collapsed to the ground, as his back unarched and his limbs felt like lead. Instinctively Snape dragged in great lungfuls of air as he tried to recover.

       :Well, have you remembered our offer yet?:

       "Sh..." Severus choked as spit pooled in the back of his throat and it hurt too much to swallow. "Shut up," he ground out the words. He hadn't remembered the Shadows offer until the instant he'd recognised their whispered voice in what was left of his mind and then the knowledge had flooded back to him. They had bid him remember in exactly this situation. He was screaming on the cold stone floor, his muscles were cramping, his bones ached and his blood was boiling in his veins. Fawkes had rejected him and he was lying, broken and bleeding before the Dark Lord.

       " _No_!" Snape recognised his former Lord's voice, raised slightly in anger. Apparently he recognised who the Potion Master was talking to. "He is not for you!"

       :Only you can decide that Severus... Will you take the redemption we offer Or will you take the pain the Dark Lord will give you?:

       "No... no children..." Severus swallowed against the pain. "No... Ord... Order... No... no... no..."

       "You cannot have him!" The Dark Lord said again, glaring at the gathering Shadows.

       :No children, no Order, no Dark Lord, no vampires, not even our Master. Nothing will matter Severus, nothing but the brew of a potion. We promised you that, and you know we keep our promises.:

       " _Crucio_!" This time the Dark Lord said the curse and Severus drew breath to scream, " _I accept_ "! And then he knew no more.

       In the throne room of the Dark Lord, there was an instant of total darkness. It was less than the blink of an eye but in that time the prisoner vanished. Voldemort snarled, readjusting the warding runes he'd deliberately loosed earlier, before he looked at the Shadows that were moving restlessly in the rafters, suddenly completely calm. "That went better than I had hoped," he mused.

       :He was stubborn, we will grant him that.:

       Voldemort chuckled. "If he wasn't stubborn, you wouldn't respect him," he said easily before his expression turned more reflective. "After all this time, he still loves her."

       :And how long will you love our Master?: the Shadows asked.

       The Dark Lord was thankful only he could hear them but he saw their point. He would love Harry forever, even if they were apart, though the world would most likely die screaming if anything happened to his beloved. "What will you do with him now?"

       :After he recovers, we have quite a few potions we want him to make. You might even see one or two of them. Apart from that though, his efforts in this war are over. He won't be appearing on any battlefield.:

       "Then I suppose I feel satisfied by his punishment," Voldemort said softly.

       :You should, you had him for longer than we thought you would.:

       "As you say, he's stubborn," the dark wizard snorted. "Are my children still safe?" the voice was Xatarass'.

       :They are. You can collect them at any time.:

       "Then I suppose I had better make plans," Voldemort sighed, rising from his throne and striding to the door. No matter that Severus was now in the proverbial hands of the Shadows, he did have a very busy month to plan and wasting time over a prisoner he always knew he was going to lose was not how one won a war.

 


	34. Blue Moon

Weapon   
Chapter 34 Blue Moon

       Remus, like the other three Pack Leaders, leaned against trees as they waited for the moon to rise. All of them could feel their inner wolves shifting in anticipation, testing the bounds of their human bodies but unable to break free. A blue moon may mean nothing to most, but to werewolves it was a time of power.

       Fenrir was across from him stripped down to a loin cloth, though Lupin could feel that the man would like even less in the way of clothing. He'd been pacing back and forth measuring distances with his still-human mind.

       "Don't even think about it," Remus warned, catching Greyback's intent as the man looked deliberately at the ground between him and Blackpelt. Remus let his wand slip forward.

       "Bah!" Fenrir snarled even as Blackpelt became aware and growled his own warning. The four who remained in the fight for the position of Pack Leader of the Isles had all been werewolves from a young age, though Longtooth was Muggleborn. Blackpelt, Fenrir, and Remus all had Wizarding blood but only Remus had the training and he was not afraid to use that fact.

       The four of them had chosen a clearing deep in the woods and were now waiting for the moon to rise, and while none of the others were quite as scantily clad as Fenrir, they were all in simple enough robes that could be shed when the transformation took hold of them.

       "I'm going to enjoy watching you bow to me tomorrow," Fenrir growled to Remus. "Then your pretty little wizarding tricks won't mean a thing."

       Remus snorted. "Funnily enough, Old Man, I was just thinking that it was time you stepped aside."

       "Over my dead body."

       "I can arrange that," Remus returned the last with a toothy grin. This close to a full moon, he had learned not to attempt to restrain the wolf and the aggressive instincts it had. If he did, it hurt more and for this particular moon, aggression was called for. Even if he couldn't control the wolf, Remus was feeling confident. To go into this battle with anything less than a full belief in his abilities would have been stupid. He knew the others had been offered the same charm and he was fairly sure that Longtooth had taken it but he didn't think that would affect the outcome.

       Simultaneously, the four werewolves stiffened and turned their faces towards the moon. A sliver was visible over the mountains, not enough light to change them but enough to get their attention.

       " _Finally_ ," Fenrir growled, his voice showing his immense satisfaction. "I'll be disappointed if you pups don't fight to the death."

       "There will be at least one death," Blackpelt snapped.

       "I'm aiming for two," Fenrir rumbled happily.

       "Oh, I'm honoured," Remus laughed.

       "Only because I want to see you bow more than I want to see your corpse," Greyback barked, his voice degraded as the moon rose higher.

       For a time the only noise in the clearing was the popping of bones and the snarling and snapping that accompanied a human's change into their werewolf form. And then four Alpha wolves regarded each other for a moment. It was only an instant of time and before the battle tonight there was no preamble. Four sets of claws dug into the earth, gaining purchase to jump in attack. Fenrir claws raked at Longtooth while Remus snapped towards Blackpelt. Momentum carried them all passed the others and the instant they landed, all four wolves leapt back into attack.

       This time Remus tried to bite Fenrir, knowing that if he could wound the older werewolf, he might have a chance of getting Longtooth onside if his human mind still dominated his wolf. He would no doubt recognise that Fenrir was the biggest threat. Remus had been surprised tonight, as he had been the last two moons. The charm was meant to reinforce his human mind, it was not meant to do anything about the pain he felt with his transformation, but he would swear that with each moon the pain had in fact lessened. It still hurt like hell as his body forcibly restructured itself, but it seemed to him that it was a bit smoother and recovery was easier. He would have to check later.

       In werewolf form there could not be discussion and it was pure chance based on the way they landed but they did not try to fight as four again. Remus found himself snarling at Blackpelt and he didn't even think as he allowed his werewolf instincts to control his actions. As per his name, Blackpelt had one of the most magnificent jet black coats that Remus had ever seen. It was long with a few white stripes through it. You wouldn't call them a tiger because they traced their way over his back almost like the edges of a blanket. The werewolves were about the same size as wolves and neither backed down at the other's displays of dominance.

       Remus didn't have much chance to think about anything before his wolf and Blackpelt attacked each other. They didn't jump but instead ran at each other, ducking and weaving as each attempted to grab hold. Remus felt his teeth pierce flesh even as he felt Blackpelt's teeth dig into his own muscle but neither managed to gain a decent purchase, so they continued to dance around the other. Lupin at least kept one eye on Longtooth and Greyback and their very vicious battle.

       As they closed again, Remus saw an opening and he twisted in what any wolf would have thought was a submissive move but it allowed him to come at Blackpelt from an odd angle, ducking under and coming up under Blackpelt's muzzle so that he could not defend. He jumped back, having realised what was happening, it was too late. Remus was driving him upward, back on to both their hind legs before he allowed momentum to continue to carry him forward, driving Blackpelt over backwards. Lupin came down on top of the other werewolf, his jaws fastened over Blackpelt's throat. He didn't grip tightly, but enough to draw blood. Blackpelt's forelegs scrambled for a moment trying to drive Remus off, but it was no use and after a moment the wolf in him relaxed, curling his front legs up and tucking in his hind legs as he lay on his back in complete submission.

       Remus scrambled around slightly, placing one of his hind legs on Blackpelt's now exposed abdomen before he released his jaws, licking once at the shallow wound he had made and then he let the other werewolf up. Blackpelt had lost; he would now obey him. Blackpelt turned and disappeared into the trees, a sign of his defeat. That left Greyback and Longtooth. Knowing what he did of Fenrir, both man and wolf did not hold out much hope of Longtooth defeating Greyback. The Muggle werewolf was as strong as any other of their kind, but Fenrir was truly vicious and that would make the difference.

       It was no surprise therefore when Remus turned to the battle between Fenrir and Longtooth and found that Longtooth was limping badly, bleeding from several nasty looking gashes. He was engaged now more in defence and Remus could see that the human within the wolf was controlling that part. If the wolf had of been in control of Longtooth then with wounds and the rampant aggression from Greyback, he would have gone to ground, exposing throat and belly in submission... And Greyback would have then proceeded to rip both out and no doubt Longtooth's human side knew that which was why he was continuing to attempt to fight, even with his wounds.

       It had been a long time since Remus had seen or even dreamed of Greyback. He really was a magnificent specimen of wolf. His coat was grey, dappled in places and tending towards what was a beautiful silver along his back, giving him his name. His age showed in the silver that was gathering about his blood-splattered muzzle, but age had not slowed his reaction time. After taking in the situation, Remus didn't hesitate, jumping into the air with the intention of coming down on Greyback's back. Longtooth saw the movement and tried to help, stilling for a moment so that Greyback was also relatively stationary.

       Remus landed, his claws scrambling against Fenrir's pelt in an effort to gain traction. His jaw was biting and ripping but Greyback was experienced and after half a heartbeat of shock he jumped, arching his back and twisting to drive Remus from him. The two werewolves snarled and barked at each other. There might have been the slightest twinge of recognition between the wolves, father to son, but neither wolf felt the slightest crumb of affection for the other. Black burning hatred was what defined their relationship and would define the battle now. Longtooth disappeared, retreating into the trees, realising he was defeated.

       Lupin had been expecting the counter and had jumped as well as he could, driving his paws into Greyback's back with his claws digging as much as he could. He landed lightly under the trees again, and sunk his hind claws into the rich loam. It felt _good_ under his paws. He and Greyback circled each other, ears laid back, teeth bared and lips drawn back threateningly. If there was any sign that Greyback didn't really want to kill him, Remus couldn't see it. All human desires and restraints were locked away by the wolf. Physically, Greyback was a little taller and quite a bit more built;, not enough that Remus' wolf felt inferior, but perhaps it offered an alternative fighting method. Greyback excelled in close fighting and while Remus was adept, a more open fight would suit him. He was not the lightest built of wolves, but he could jump with the best of them. With that in mind, he sprang toward his foe.

       Fenrir's experience showed. He braced himself, digging all four of his paws into the ground as he snarled, his head tracking Remus. Lupin missed on his first jump, and quickly scrambled away. He needed to come down squarely on Fenrir's back or else the larger wolf would shake him off. Greyback was quick to react and spun, attempting to close the distance but Lupin was wary and had already leapt way.

       They circled each other again, snarling. Attack plans formed in Remus's mind but he discarded them all. For all his other faults, Fenrir was not a weak werewolf and his instincts were strong. Remus was reasonably sure he could outfight him but that would take time and he'd most likely be injured. The pain didn't concern him but they were at war; he could not afford to be injured at a time when the Werewolves were just beginning to fight.

       Greyback took the initiative this time, leaping with teeth bared towards Remus who was forced to respond in kind, jumping towards the other werewolf. They meet in a tangle of failing limbs and snapping jaws and Lupin felt one of his hind paws catch itself in Fenrir's abdomen. Instinct pushed his claws forward and dragged his leg down, tracing as deep a wound as he could through the other werewolf's gut and down one hind leg, even as Greyback twisted away. They separated when they landed and canine eyes flicked over the wound. It bled, but it was not deep and Remus felt a cold pull of shock through him when it began healing. As he watched, the blood flow stopped and the sides of the wound began reaching towards each other to seal it. The wizard werewolf had seen wounds healed by magic before but this was not natural. This was beyond a werewolf's normal healing.

       Why hadn't anyone noticed?

       Remus snarled, his growl echoing with hatred as his answer came to him. Fenrir had always been in the thick of battle, moving, twisting, biting and clawing. He'd come away scratched, but never with devastating wounds and in the churning movement of battle, no one would have noticed the extra healing. They would have thought him lucky, but it was obvious that someone had augmented his already accelerated werewolf healing ability. The human side of Lupin's mind accepted the information and began planning while the werewolf within him howled its hatred. It didn't care, it just wanted to make the other werewolf hurt.

       The rule of thumb when fighting those with accelerated healing was to kill them quickly. Usually they could not heal fatal wounds fast enough and from observation it seemed as if Fenrir was no exception. The other rule was to go for tendons and ligaments. Flesh wounds were well and good for using energy, but snap a tendon and no matter how fast their healing, they were down for a little while. It took time to reform and stretch them into position. Not to mention the pain it caused. Accelerated healing did not mean that one did not suffer pain. That made his plan of attack simple: hamstring and go for the throat. But since that was pretty much what Greyback was attempting to do to him, how did he distract the other werewolf long enough to strike?

       Lupin considered the ground. The easiest distraction would be to claw dirt into Fenrir's eyes, but the clearing they had chosen to fight in was well grassed and the soil was moist. It could be scratched into the air, but it would clump and would not be sufficiently fine to be a distraction. Their clothing was scattered around the edge of the clearing and while one of their loose robes would be suitable, Remus didn't think he could fling it properly without tangling himself in it and the angles would be all wrong if he ran towards them. He'd have to raise it up over him or turn around somehow... He'd definitely tangle himself before he snared Greyback.

       Fenrir leapt at him, jaws wide to show off an impressive array of teeth and claws to the forefront. Remus jumped over the larger werewolf, still considering his options. He couldn't use their robes but his wand was in one set... He was a magical being and he knew a few spells well enough to cast them voicelessly... was it even possible? His opponent turned with impressive speed, driving one rear paw into the ground as a pivot and Remus was forced to spring back again as Greyback pressed his attack. The blue moon had obviously increased his power and aggression and he was all teeth and claws and snarls in the silver light.

       As Remus leaped again, trying to land on Fenrir's back, he dismissed using his wand. It would be a last resort if nothing else worked. Lupin wasn't worried about damage to his wand. It had been with him through almost every transformation since the other Marauders had cast a whole gamut of protection charms on it. But he didn't really want to risk his life on something completely untried. He might be able to cast a charm, he might not, and finding out now was not the best option.

       There was one sure way of getting a shot at Fenrir, though it would leave him injured. He didn't want to be injured at this early juncture, but with Fenrir's accelerated healing, even if Remus could outfight him with his human mind, he may not be able to outlast the other werewolf.

       Remus snarled, teeth bared, ears laid flat, his tail high and bristling. His human mind made no effort to restrain the wolf's hatred. If he couldn't land properly on Fenrir, then he would just have to go with Greyback's specialty and out fight him quickly. The longer he delayed the harder it would be.

       Greyback took up the challenge, growling back, and Remus could detect no hint of weakness in the other werewolf. Whomever had cast the charm to accelerate healing knew what they were doing and it was causing no overt adverse effects. Not surprising given the list of possible casters was rather short, and no one had ever accused the Dark Lord of being unskilled. Uncouth, inconsiderate, amoral, and all associated adjectives for being indecent, but unskilled, never.

       As the two werewolves leaped at each other, Lupin braced himself not only for the shock of their meeting, but also for what he had to do. He was detached as he watched himself raising high one foreleg with the pastern curled beside his forearm. With a flick of his tail he twisted in mid-air, spinning so that his curled foreleg was high and his jaws were lower. The thought to box Fenrir's throat with his leg was dismissed as soon as it occurred. It would work but it would only be a temporary distraction to the other werewolf and so he went with his original plan, wincing as he deliberately jammed his forearm into Fenrir's open jaw.

       Greyback was surprised for an instant at getting such a good grip, but Remus was ready when the larger werewolf bit down. He ignored the pain, something his wolf would not have been able to do alone, as he twisted further getting his back and withers over Fenrir's forelegs and going for the throat. They were falling now, their momentum ended and the ground fast approaching and Lupin felt Fenrir's jaws tighten in anticipation. He didn't want to relinquish Remus' foreleg even after they landed. Inwardly the human werewolf smiled and made his move.

       Everything changed.

       Remus smelled and tasted blood in his mouth and unlike the almost ceremonial grip he'd taken on Blackpelt, he clamped his jaws around Fenrir's throat as hard as he could, angling himself so that he would land on his back but still be able to grip. Though still possessing a wolf's mind, Greyback instantly knew what happened. He'd been distracted by Lupin's leg in his mouth and had sought to wound, never realising the other wolf was going for the kill. His legs slammed into Remus's side as he tried to get a paw between them to push Lupin away. Remus tensed, pulling himself upward towards the grey werewolf, his free foreleg braced against Fenrir's chest and his hind legs scrambling in the air. He ground his jaws when he hit the ground with shocking force, his mind blanking as the torn grass dug through his pelt.

       Fenrir landed on all fours but was dragged down by the extra weight of Remus. He released Lupin's leg as he continued to struggle. The smaller werewolf held on grimly, not trusting his weight to his now damaged leg. Instead he used his front legs as much as he could, pressing his injured one upwards on Greyback's lower jaw, keeping the larger werewolf's mouth closed. He felt Fenrir's claws trying to gain purchase against his rib cage and twisted his hind legs, attempting to dig his claws into the dirt. Blood trickled into his mouth and the wolf responded powerfully. He wanted nothing more than to pull back, but with Fenrir struggling, he couldn't get his feet under him. Remus was confident, though. He had the throat, all it would take now was time and Greyback, of human mind or wolf, _knew_ it.

       Desperate and unable to get purchase on the younger werewolf, Greyback jumped, hoping that the movement would loosen the grip on his throat. The move allowed him to arch his back, driving his hind legs into the rib cage of the other werewolf, but before he could push he felt Lupin's hind legs barrel into him from the side. Greyback growled as they landed, his strength fading, and he sank to down, not quite on his belly yet. Lupin scrambled at him scratching the underside of his jaws, but Fenrir didn't even feel it. He was still upside down, but Remus could sense that the dappled grey werewolf was weakening. The realisation that he was beaten was slowly coming to the older werewolf.

       As Remus felt Greyback quiver, he closed his eyes, drawing his lips back and preparing. With a savage growl, he let the wolf take over, shifting his grip. He clamped his jaws closed around Fenrir's windpipe and drove his fangs into the arteries of his neck. Lupin jerked his head back, feeling flesh rip beneath his teeth, hot blood scenting the air and splattering to the ground. Remus scrambled back and rose, careful not to rest his weight on his bitten foreleg. He had to see if the grey werewolf's accelerated healing could handle having his throat torn out. And if it did, he'd have to risk magic.

       Greyback seemed to choke and blood flowed out of his mouth, though Remus could see that the wounds inflicted on his arteries were healing superficially. The grey werewolf's forelegs were bent and he was resting on his pasterns. His tail was lashing the air and as Remus watched, he could see the flesh on Fenrir's neck try to tie itself together but somehow it couldn't grip the other side of the wound. Inwardly he felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. The arteries had healed of necessity because he hadn't been able to rip open large enough holes, but the trachea was torn and broken. He really didn't want to test his ability to use magic, not in such a battle. Greyback was strong though, and even missing most of his throat he was taking a long time dying. His eyes, the coal black eyes of his werewolf, latched onto Remus and burned, even now with hatred and Lupin allowed his brown eyes to stare back flatly as Greyback struggled to his feet. It should not have been possible but the smaller werewolf accepted it and tensed, his legs stiff and tail alert. He shouldn't have worried. Fenrir crashed back into the ground but Remus took no chances darted around the larger werewolf to attack from behind, his jaws snapping as he went for Fenrir's hamstring. If the other werewolf recovered, that should impede movement. Pain blossomed in his injured leg, but Remus' human mind pushed it aside and he jumped, further attacking as he'd meant to.

       He landed on the silver werewolf's back and they both crashed into the ground as Fenrir's remaining three legs twitched, trying and failing to push the dappled grey werewolf into a standing position. Remus didn't care, snarling as he gripped his jaws around the scruff of the grey werewolf's neck. He braced himself and shook, dragging Fenrir through the dirt. Blood from Fenrir's throat splattered around them but instinct was in control now and Lupin's wolf just wanted the kill.

       With deliberate aggression Remus felt himself jerk, reclamping his jaws though Fenrir's thick pelt with each movement until he felt the other wolf's back bone. With a growl, he bit down as hard as he could. He felt the bones grind under his teeth and the sound spurred him further; he kept the pressure on.

       When the break came, it was all at once with a resounding snap. The bones separated and the great silver werewolf beneath him became a dead weight. Remus was almost dragged down but he released his burden, jumping away, ready to attack, just to be sure.

       He was breathing hard, his heart hammering in his chest and his blood roaring in his ears. Unconsciously, he narrowed brown eyes as he looked towards Greyback. The larger werewolf was slumped, his tongue extended almost stupidly from his jaws and his fangs stained red with his own blood. The yellow eyes were glazed but they unerringly were fixed to him. The silver chest was motionless and Lupin could see the wound in the great throat was still unhealed. There was not a lot of blood around the wound at the back of Greyback's neck but it was enough to show the savagery of the attack. His legs were under him and if not for the blood it would almost be as if the larger werewolf was resting, but Fenrir was dead.

       Remus drew a shuddering breath an instant before he collapsed, his wounded leg no longer able to support him. It didn't matter. He didn't care and he had to remind himself forcefully to breathe again. He had been prepared for victory, he had been prepared to be wounded, but _nothing_ could prepare him for the sheer sense of relief he felt. The weight that had lifted from him was something he hadn't even been aware had been crushing down upon him. Now that it was gone it was...it was incredible. He felt weightless, despite the fact he was lying on the ground, twigs digging into his pelt.

       He felt... He felt _free!_

       After so many years, he felt _free_. He was still a werewolf, he would always be one, but the monster whom had infected him, the monster who would have led all werewolves to be mindless savage beasts was dead. There would _not_ be another like him, another bitten for no other reason than to cause pain. It was...it was unbelievable and the werewolf swallowed unconsciously.

       Slowly, Remus raised his head and howled; anger, hatred, relief, victory all encompassed in his voice. The noise faded and he gasped, the wolf in him still growling in contentment. It felt lethargic now which was more than unusual for a full moon but it was... The wolf didn't feel emotion as a wizard did but it felt happy. Killing the one who created it was not the relief that it was for Remus; the wolf was more content that it had killed one who had dared to challenge.

       Lupin smiled. At least on this they were both happy and inwardly he looked over his wolf as it rested, licking occasionally at its wounded leg. This meant that he, both human and wolf aspect, was Pack Leader of the Isles and that meant his life was about to get a lot busier. A new weight seemed to settle on his shoulders but it was a glad weight. The care and wellbeing of the werewolves on the Isles now rested with him. He could do nothing more than his best for them and somehow, even in the midst of war, even with so many conflicting desires calling for their attention, some to destroy them, some to nurture them, Remus felt deep in his soul that everything would work out. The path was not yet travelled, there would be difficulties that he, that no one had foreseen, but everything, eventually would be fine.

       He raised his nose to the moon, baring his teeth as he howled again and cockily his thoughts solidified.

       _Bring it on!_

===

       Draco stood in the centre of a classroom. It was way passed curfew but he didn't care. Regardless of how anything else had turned out, he was still a prefect and he'd placed a few runes and wards around the area so if anyone was going to sneak up on him, he'd have some warning. Not that he expected anyone to worry if he wasn't in bed for one night, even if it was a full moon. Hopefully people would just assume he was off working on his Astronomy homework or something. Who was he kidding? No one would care.

       They would.... They would all know to whom they should have listened.

       He'd pushed the desks aside and had drawn four complicated and concentric circles on the stone floor. Not much magic called for such preparation but he wanted to be sure that he got this right. The Solmemorate charm had been in the book his mother had sent him. Near the end, naturally, in the section that was for charms that could only be removed by their caster. Of course there was no such thing as a completely unbreakable charm, no matter who had cast it; just that what would have taken that slimy Gryffindork all of three wand flicks, would take him significantly more effort. And that's why he was here standing in the centre of a very complicated set of magical circles, the ceiling covered in another complex charm that rendered a perfect reproduction of the night sky. He needed the moon’s light for this to work. Full moon, partial moon, it didn't matter, so long as the moon and star light was clear and the only source. That's why he hadn't done this outside. The only places he felt comfortable outside that were big enough for the magical circle were either too public, in the Forbidden Forest, or had too much reflected light from the castle in them. While this ceremony didn't require a full moon, he'd left it to this moon, in the hopes that full moon would have more power.

       As he waited in the near complete darkness for the moon to rise, he cast the strongest possible locking charms on the door and stripped off his robes. The blond didn't really understand the reasoning behind why this counter charm was meant to work, but the more of the moon’s light that he could get on his skin the better. The light would hit the magic circle, which would do something to it, before, by virtue of the fact he was in the centre, it would transfer onto and into him. After the training his Mother had put him through this summer, he understood a lot more of the theory behind magic, but this ceremony was both so advanced and so simple that the workings of it eluded him. It was something to do with both the transmutational and healing qualities of the light of the moon. The transmutation came with the conversion of the magical circle into power and the healing came with the ability of the magic to remove the memory charm.

       Draco closed his grey eyes, focusing his power, drawing out his wings. Compared to his mother's they were small, but they were stronger than they looked. He'd been exercising with them as much as he could, which since they removed him from the Quidditch captain position was more time than he thought he'd have. He could almost fly on them now and he was looking forward to the day he could.  He arched them high above his head before bringing them low and tucking them about his body, enjoying the sensuous feeling of his own feathers against his skin. As always when he allowed them out, he felt filled with power and warmth.

       Before he could get too distracted, the clear light of the moon hit the first path of the magic circle.

       Draco wasn't sure what he had expected to happen, but the outer ring of the magic circle seeming to catch fire with blinding white light was not what he'd been thinking. It was like magnesium burning, so brilliantly white that it was almost blinding. The glyphs and runes he'd painstakingly drawn in were the next to be bathed in the light of the moon. They were angular and sharp and burned blue like copper before the next line of the circle lit up in brilliant yellow. It was not silent; he could hear the hiss of fire, but he could not smell anything burning. The next line of runes lit, red but different from the others. They had no corners but were instead all curves and circles that feathered their way towards him in the centre.

       Arms raised in supplication as the burning magical circle began spinning and contracting, advancing upon him, the Malfoy Heir felt the exact moment the swirling runes touched his feet and he couldn't help but stiffen. They didn't just trace over his skin; they went inside, always spinning. It hurt. Draco couldn't begin to say how much it hurt, but he refused to cry out. He felt his magic reacting to the invader and struggled to keep it calm. It needed this. He needed this! With one invading magic stream in him, he could feel the other foreign presence. His magic had a yellow shade, the moon powered magic, despite the myriad of colours it had burned was clear white and the invading stream, the one that was locked around his memories and his ability to speak of them, was green, but so brilliant a green that the word was not a valid description.

       The white energy began picking at the green and while Draco knew that it wasn't alive, he couldn't help but feel it somehow knew what he was trying to do. At first it did nothing but seemed to dig into his yellow deeper, then as the white energy continued to pull at it, little tendrils of green rose off it and began attacking back. None of this was physically happening it was all a representation in his mind. Physically Draco was trying not to feel his body. The white light of the magic circle was now inscribed over his entire body, moving, churning and it was agony. It burned.  The moon's light, which was meant to be soft and gentle and cooling, was burning, worse than the sun. It spun within him and there was nothing he could do but endure.

       Slowly the white energy began surrounding the green threads, working its way between the green and yellow. A few of the green threads snapped, and turned black like shadow, but they did not reconnect. With every one that snapped, Draco felt lighter. He could feel the power of the charm the smarmy Gryffindork had left on him weakening.

       He was gasping and his wings were trembling with the strain, but Draco gritted his teeth and allowed the magic to continue. He clawed at his throat, trying to remove the invisible strings cutting into his neck but there was nothing and his fingers gouged into flesh, marking but not breaking his skin. He tried directing his magic to help but he wasn't sure if it worked as he fell to his knees, one hand going forward to prevent him falling on his nose, the other still grasping futility at his throat.

       Draco dragged air down his throat, his chest heaving. It was painful beyond anything he had ever felt and through the pain he could feel his hatred for a certain wizard growing. He and his mother had focused on destroying the Serpent Lord, but they would have to go through that supposed paragon of Light, and on that day.... After this, he was well looking forward to that day because he didn't think that Gryffindork would allow the Serpent Lord to fall without interfering. It would be a sweet, sweet day.

       But it was a day that would not be today.

       Draco continued gasping, even as his arm gave out and he crashed completely to the ground, his head turned to the side and his wings arched stiffly above him. All around him the magic lines that were now inscribed on his body flared as the moon on the ceiling rose to its apex. He was so focused on trying to breathe that he could barely feel the burning pain in his body. He was grateful for the cool of the stone upon his skin. When the final green thread that had been wrapped around his magic snapped, the relief was so great he cried out. The burning stopped and the stone he was lying on became uncomfortably cold and burnt his skin. Draco moaned, tasting blood as he shifted slightly, sitting up and gathering his knees to his chest.

       He looked up at the sky, basking in the light of the moon that no longer powered the circles before he closed his pale grey eyes and mentally poked at his memories, making sure that everything had been freed. Predominantly he remembered the conversation when that Gryffindor had dared to put that charm on him. The Golden Boy had never actually said it, but it was clear his allegiance was not with the Ministry or the Order or even on the side of Light. He was firmly entrenched on the one side _everyone_ expected him to fight. It didn't matter if the Serpent Lord later betrayed the idiot; by the time that came, if it ever did, the damage would be done.

       Draco wrapped his wings around him as he rose.  Apart from the fact no one was willing to follow him, the problem was bigger than he had thought. Even if he and his mother decided to support the Light, it would not work, not with such a huge Trojan horse in their midst. One that no one was guarding against because it was completely unthinkable. His mother had spoken during the summer of some alternate plans, and as Draco dressed he realised that they would most likely have to embrace one of those plans. It did them little good to gather support if in the end they could not use it because the Light had been betrayed and the Serpent Lord was ascendant. Could he warn the Light?

       The Malfoy Heir considered it before he ultimately dismissed it. There were only a few who would believe him. The Vampire was one, but he was here already because he doubted. Though perhaps now that he could talk to the Vampire properly they could work together....

       That blasted _Potter!_ Draco resisted the urge to scream. Everything that Gryffindork did just confused the matter.

       He forced himself to breathe again, drawing the air slowly into his lungs, dusting off his robes as dispelled the charm he'd used to duplicate the night sky. Then he banished the circles. He needed to think further and he needed to find out exactly how strong the blasted Gryffindor was. He may no longer be the Quidditch Captain but he was still the Seeker. The game would give him the opportunity to test the false Golden Boy. After that.... After that he would have a better idea of what was the best path.

       For now, he needed to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day to consider things.

===              

             

      


	35. After the Blue Moon

Weapon   
Chapter 35 After the Blue Moon

       Harry pressed his hands into the steaming cup of tea that he held. The warmth was a welcome respite. Outside, the weather had turned nasty and rain was lashing the small hut and the castle of Hogwarts that it sheltered near. There was more than a hint of ice in the rain and the weather was turning into winter. They didn't have snow yet, but it was just a matter of time.

       Hagrid was beaming at him, puttering around as he laid out tea cakes and rock cakes and a few things Harry didn't even want to have a guess at what they were. The young man had seen his friend over the course of the year, but this was the first time he'd had enough time to come and visit him. Not that Hagrid cared; Hagrid was always so understanding and right at the moment he was absolutely ecstatic that Harry had come to talk to him about his Care of Magical Creatures Mastery. Fang was asleep beside Hagrid's chair. The great wolf hound was looking rather tired lately.

       "Four Masteries!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Your mum and dad would be so proud!"

       "I hope so," Harry agreed, taking a small sip of tea from the large cup. He felt the warmth travel down his throat and settle in his belly, spreading outwards, making him feel more aware.

       The half-Giant just smiled as he sat down. "They are," he assured Harry. "I don't see how they could be anything but proud of you."

       Harry flushed and nodded and took another sip of tea. "It's enjoyable," he said, sweeping one hand through his hair. "I know Charms and Transfiguration, but I guess until I really looked into it, I didn't realise there was so much to them. So I'm learning so much!" The fact that Harry had the Dark Lord's knowledge was not to be known among many wizards. His friends knew, Harry was fairly sure the Chief Examiner had was aware of it, and some in the Ministry knew; the rest of the wizarding world were just in AWE of his results.

       "So proud," Hagrid said again while Fang snuffled, chasing rabbits in his sleep.

       Harry smiled. "I actually wanted to ask you about something," he said finally, after a few more sips of tea.

       "Oh?"

       "I'm doing Care of Magical Creatures," Harry began somewhat stupidly. The entire _world_ knew exactly what Masteries he was doing. There was no way Hagrid didn't already know this.

       "And it warms my heart that you are!" The groundskeeper said. "Me first student to go on to further education in a class I taught!" Pride echoed through his voice.

       "I wanted to know if you had any suggestions about what type of creature I could do for my thesis paper?"

       Hagrid's eyes went as large as dinner plates before he whipped out his hanky and began dabbing at them, sobbing almost uncontrollably. "You...you wanted to...ask me!?"

       Harry nodded and then finished most of his tea while the half-Giant got himself under control, sniffing happily into his hanky. "What did you want to know?" he asked finally.

       "I have to write a thesis about some creature," Harry began. "And they gave me a suggested list but it's...it's boring!" Harry had never thought he shared Hagrid's taste for dangerous creatures, but when he looked at the suggested list of creatures, he'd been horrified. "The only thing of interest they had on there was a cockatrice, but that's too close to a basilisk and given what's happening this year with the Dark Lord..." he trailed off as Hagrid nodded.

       "I seen the list," Hagrid agreed. "Not your list obviously, but I've seen the list. All of them creatures so over-studied that it's a wonder anyone passes!"

       "Yeah, so that's why I was wondering if you have any ideas about alternate creatures?"

       For a moment Harry thought Hagrid might be incapable of answering, he looked so happy. Then he seemed to gather himself.

       "I can't study a dragon," the young wizard said nervously, fully expecting Hagrid to suggest it.

       Hagrid smiled almost wistfully but nodded, obviously deep in thought.

       "And I would prefer _not_ an acromantula," Harry added. Actually that wasn't _prefer_ ; there was no way he could study an acromantula even if he was inclined to do so, not with Xaos sleeping inside him. Even hidden, the killer spiders would feel him and would know something wasn't right with the wizard. Harry could not afford suspicion to be raised that way.

       Again Hagrid nodded and Harry felt a slight stir of worry. The groundskeeper was agreeing far too readily in the removal of some dangerous creatures from his study list. "What about a Siberian Ice Owl?"

       The young man frowned. "What's that?" One of the reasons he'd chosen to do make Care of Magical Creatures one of his Masteries was that the Lord Voldemort's knowledge of magical creatures tended to be limited to how to use them in potions. He knew about the more dangerous creatures and probably no one knew more about basilisks, but there were others he dismissed as weak and unnecessary. He wouldn't exterminate them because they were magical, but he wouldn't pay attention to them.

       Hagrid looked at him, slightly surprised. "Ye had one, Hedwig."

       Harry blinked and for a moment felt nothing before the sorrow of Hedgwig's death came back to him. It wasn't quite the same as when he'd passed by the Owlery in Diagon Alley, but it was close. No matter that he knew that her spirit lived on, he still missed her. He raised one hand to his face and wiped away tears as he shook his head. "I can't," Harry managed to choke out and the large man nodded in understanding. Harry resisted the urge to unwrap the part of his mind where Xaos resided and to hug the basilisk for comfort. It would be selfish and risky and disrespectful of Hedwig's sacrifice if he was so weak as to risk his hiding place because he was feeling sorry for himself.

       The half-Giant's information answered quite a few questions. He'd known that Hedwig wasn't a snowy owl. Her ability to fight was testament to that and he wondered if the Siberian Ice Owl was really an owl or that tag was for convenience? It didn't matter.

       "I understand," Hagrid said before thinking again. "What about a Mizuchi?"

       "Hagrid!" Harry chided, feeling the sorrow lift and he was thankful for the other man's efforts when he saw the sly smile. "No dragons! No matter which language you use!"

       "Can't blame a man for trying. Hmm, what else is there?"

       "They probably won't want me to do a Manticore or a Chimera either," Harry suggested wisely, downing the last of his tea.

       Hsgrid refilled his cup before speaking. "What about a Salamandar?" He suggested and Harry was surprised. That had definitely turned down the danger level in the suggestion.

       The younger wizard shook his head. "I can't be tending a fire all year."

       "An Occamy?"

       "Wrong climate," came the objection and Hagrid nodded.

       "Nogtail?"

       "Boring."

       The large man laughed as he sat down. That was what he had thought about those things too, but there were only so many animals that were practical for study.

       "I wonder if I should ask Luna if she'd mind if I did a Crumple-horned Snolack?"

       "You'd have to catch one first and she might be a little jealous if you got the recognition for discovering them," Hagrid said easily. "I suppose you could look at some animal that's also good for transportation, like a Thestral."

       "That's got some possibilities," Harry said. "You are right, though; at least I'd have some transport. I like Thestrals well enough, but is there anything else I could study?"

       "Unicorn?"

       "I'm not a virgin," Harry admitted without the slightest trace of discomfort.

       "That would be a problem," the half-Giant admitted. "Most of the other large flying horses or hippogriffs aren't really that interesting. There is some minor use for potions and sometimes for wands but in general a flying horse is like its wingless Muggle counterpart. There's a few more injuries they can get with the wings, but normally nothing that needs to be dealt with by magic. You've seen Hippogriffs and while they are great creatures, they aren't really special enough for your thesis. I'd go with a Thestral if I was going with a transport animal."

       "At least they have some obviously magical properties... Though how does a flying horse really keep itself aloft? Those wings don't seem big enough."

       "They have some magic," Hagrid said, "And that mostly goes towards keeping them aloft." The large man shrugged. "It's been fairly well studied."

       Harry sighed, but he smiled at his friend. "I never thought picking out a creature to study would be this hard," he said. "I think I'll go with a Thestral," he confirmed with sudden surety. "Could you introduce me to the Hogwarts herd? It would be better if I can make a relationship with one." Luna had shown him some of them, but it was Hagrid's job to keep them well fed and to harness them up each year to the carriages. He knew which animals were gentle, which were more aggressive, and which would be happier to work with him and Harry knew he'd need to be working with a co-operative animal if he was to get any decent results.

       Hagrid beamed and nodded. "I'll introduce you sometime next week?"

       "That would be brilliant. Thanks, Hagrid!" Harry grinned before he frowned. There was a weight in the air and a prickling on the back of his neck. Hagrid didn't seem to sense it but Harry did. It was trying to be soft and gentle, subtle to avoid detection, but there had been a spike of interest and that is what had triggered his senses. He'd felt his before, he knew the presence it represented, and Harry felt his eyes burn.

       Xeoaph.

       The vampire was truly testing the limits of his patience with his actions. It appeared he would need to have words with the vampire very soon because this constant attention was getting on his nerves and he would not be continually doubted by a being he should destroy. It appeared Xeoaph had rather conveniently forgotten his duplicity in Harry's past. Perhaps it was time to remind him?

       Harry smiled at Hagrid, pretending nothing was wrong as they continued to chat, discussing aspects of Thestral life that might best be studied. The half-Giant was enamoured of Dumbledore, but he was one of the few people who truly did care for Harry's wellbeing and Harry hoped he would remain safe this year. He'd mourn of course if Hagrid died, but he couldn't take any special precautions to ensure his friend's safety.

       He couldn't take precautions for anyone though he would be taking special pains to make sure certain people died. The survival of others was down to them.

===

       Voldemort looked up at the moon, his robes hanging still around him. The light was gentle and bathed the land in a soft white glow. The moon was full, a blue moon in November. The air was cool but lacked the true chill of winter and the manor below him was dark and quiet.

       The Malfoy Manor. The place where his basilisks were being held, where Xir had died.

       "It doesn't look like your sister is home to greet you," Voldemort murmured, looking back over his shoulder.

       Bellatrix and Dolohov were with him, both standing quietly as they waited.

       "She's not my sister."

       "I know, but why don't you let us in?" The Dark Lord suggested.

       "With pleasure," Bellatrix smiled. While she had been in Azkaban her Lord had changed, policy had altered, but there were some things which remained the same. She didn't know who or what the unknown power was and there had never been the opportunity to ask her Lord so for the moment she was waiting. She would judge in time but for now she would follow. Her Lord was still the best way forward.

       Slowly Bellatrix raised her hands, reaching out to the warding. It had been years but during her Lord's first rise, the Death Eaters had all altered their warding so that loyal followers could find safe havens but they, as sisters, had gone a bit further and had coded each other's magic into the houses' wardings. It was not easily undone and it was likely that Narcissa had never bothered to remove her from the manor's warding.

       Her magic linked in with the wards and Bellatrix smiled as she opened up the main gate. She didn't know where her supposed sister was but she didn't care. The memory had been exposed in Azkaban and it had not been a good one. She was insulted that her branch of the Blacks had been so desperate that they accepted an outsider, no matter how much they had been paid and she intended to restore their honour personally! Even Andromeda marrying that mudblood was less of an insult!

       "Very good, Bellatrix," Voldemort complimented her as he began walking towards the gate.

       Bellatrix followed with Dolohov and they passed through without a whisper of magic, walking into the manor as if they owned the place. The witch suppressed a chuckle. If Narcissa and Draco died, then while the inheritance lines were a little murky she stood to inherit quite a bit of the Malfoy fortune. Combined with the LeStrange wealth, she would be one of the wealthiest witches in not just the Isles, but the world. All of which meant nothing to her but it was nice to know.

       The Dark Lord moved confidently through the house, quick and sure, as he led them through several corridors and into wings of the large manor that Bellatrix was not familiar with. Finally he stopped at a small door and ran one white hand down the centre join. Runes lit up under his hand, responding to his magic.

       "Oh Narcissa," Voldemort said, his voice sad, "I thought I'd taught you better than that." There was a flare of magic and the runes burnt their way into the wood before vanishing and the Dark Lord's white hand pushed the door open.

       "Close your eyes," he warned Dolohov and Bellatrix as he stepped forward, his words turning into a hiss.

       Bellatrix shared a long look with Dolohov before they both closed their eyes. Beyond opening the wards, neither of them had been called upon and they were unsure of what their Lord wanted with their presence.

       The Dark Lord hissed low in his throat, the noise comforting as Xatarass laced his voice. –My children, my cousins, my blood, come to me, I will protect you.-

       -We...we are here.-

       Red eyes snapped around the room, looking everywhere, seeing everything in the darkened room. –Xentor.-

       -I am here.-

       Voldemort flicked his wand through several charms lighting the room with a soft gentle light. The pit became visible and the Dark Lord looked down at the three serpents who were within it. The two smaller ones were twined around the larger and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that they were relatively unharmed. A little underfed, but otherwise hale. Another flick of his wand, and he levitated the serpents out of the pit, gently putting them on the ground next to it. Xuld hissed softly, rapidly unwinding from Xentor to slither over to Voldemort and curl up on him. Xatarass whispered his comfort to the smaller serpent, Xir had been her father, and Voldemort held still for the few moments it took for her to coil around his shoulders and waist.

       -There are two wizards outside,- Voldemort hissed, -will you need help?- he asked the other two serpents, expressing a concern for their welfare that he would never show any Death Eater. Xentor was too large to be carried but Xal could be assisted that way.

       -I can make it,- Xentor replied gently, nudging Xal. The other serpent was drooping and with a flick of his wand Voldemort levitated the smaller serpent and draped her over Dolohov. To his credit the older wizard remained still, though the Dark Lord had detected his slight surprise when Xal's cold skin had touched him.

       -Tell him to open his eyes,- Xal requested as she closed her own. –I would rather my transport not run into anything.-

       Voldemort smiled, making his way back into the corridor with Xentor following close behind him.

       "You may open your eyes," the Dark Lord told his two followers who had waited at the door and he was pleased that both obeyed instantly, looking around a small amount to spot the serpents that were now with them. They had all closed their eyes, though Xentor was close enough behind the Dark Lord that he probably had not needed to. Still, he was comforted by the presence of Xatarass.

       "Let's go," the Dark Lord commanded and together the six of them left the Malfoy Manor, apparating back to Voldemort's stronghold as soon as they were clear of the wards.

===

       Harry blinked in the thin dawn light as he ran though the movements of the sword dance that Snape had taught him this summer. It was too cold outside so he was in the Room of Requirement and it was configured as if he was standing beside the lake on an early summer morning. He liked practicing in early mornings because it gave him the chance to talk to his servants without Fawkes overhearing. It was the only way he could keep track of things.

       "How are things going?" he asked the Shadows.

       :Quite well,: they replied.

       "Details?"

       :Whom would you like to know about?:

       "Remus?" Harry swung the Sword of Gryffindor through a long arc, spinning as he did so.

       :He won, though he may have a broken arm. He'll try to see the Minister sometime soon, but he won't be successful.:

       "Ah, always honourable," Harry sighed. He had expected nothing else from Remus and would be ready when the Werewolf Pack Leader came to him. "Can we fix his arm?"

       :Not until he comes to us,: the Shadows said gently.

       "How is Snape?" Harry asked twisting his wrist left and right as he spun the sword around his body.

       :Recovering. It will be a few days yet before he regains consciousness.:

       "Voldemort doesn't mess around, does he?"

       :No, he doesn't. His directness is rather charming,: the Shadows agreed, and Harry could hear the smile.

       "Should I see him?"

       :Not yet. It would be best if we let Snape get used to the idea first.:

       "So what about the vampire?"

       :He's more difficult. He is watching you and he does know the truth; he just can't prove it and he knows that without proof, he can't say a word.:

       "Can we get rid of him?" Harry asked, snapping the sword through a series of vicious thrusts, drawing his wand with his other hand and accompanying the movement with bright red stunner spells.

       :Unfortunately not. With Kisha at Voldemort's side, we really don't want the vampire going somewhere we can't follow, though we are working on discrediting them.:

       "Oh?" Harry's voice was laced with interest.

       :We had Sirius kill a few ruffians and make it look like a vampire killed them. The Ministry found them, but not before they were seen and the rumour is currently running rife through the wizarding households.:

       The wizard chuckled, sheathing his sword, and he shifted to the dagger motions, full of quick slashes and thrusts. He was particularly good at these.

       "How is Voldemort?"

       The Shadows were silent for a moment before they answered. :Doing fine. You've seen the attacks so you know he's still progressing and he retrieved the Basilisks from Malfoy Manor last night.:

       "Is there really no faster way?"

       :You could win at Christmas if you want to spend the next few years chasing down brigands. Be patient master, let all the players come forward, let all of them declare themselves so that they may be dealt with.:

       "Who's left to come forward?"

       :We don't know. Maybe no one, but even so a year is what we said it would take; a year is what it will take unless a drawn out war is what you want on the Isles.:

       "No," Harry sighed. "I don't want a war. I just wish there was an easier way. It's only been five months, but I'm already tired of the charade."

       :We know, Master, we know. Endure it because we do not lie; this really is the way that it must be.:

       "I could hunt down any dissidents," Harry objected.

       :Yes, you have more than enough power to do that. If it was just about power, we'd be with you, Master, telling you to embrace your animagus form and join with Voldemort and to obliterate anything in your path. But it's not about power. You can't destroy what you don't know is against you and while we are good, we can't find everyone.:

       Harry sighed, "Have you spoken to Voldemort about Fawkes?"

       :Not yet.:

       "Please do so, though I have an idea on how to deal with the Phoenix."

       :Hmm?:

       "I'm still working through the details, but I promise I won't try it without talking to you about it," Harry gave them the assurance. They were curious and they didn't want a repeat of his experimentation with his animagus form, not on something as dangerous as destroying a phoenix.

       :Tell us!: the Shadows tried to sound wheedling.

       "I don't like getting an external party involved," Harry said.

       :If there is one thing that is true, they would only do what was asked for, nothing more.:

       "That's not the point. You've already said that you aren't sure how Ollivander will react when he finds out about me. How will another react?"

       The Shadows were silent and Harry continued. "You don't know. It might be okay; they might only do what is asked, but they might decide _I'm_ a liability..."

       :Ollivander might decide that anyway,: the Shadows broke in.

       "If he does, I'm sure I can rely on you to help me make him regret it," Harry said with a smile, "But we don't know what might happen when we bring in another party so if there's any possibility I can do it or even that we can work out something, I'd like to at least consider that option."

       :So tell us,: the Shadows requested.

       Harry sighed again. "Dark can corrupt Light, and Light can redeem Dark but what happens when there are two wizards proclaiming to be Dark Lords?"

       :They fight it out,: the Shadows said, beginning to grasp where their master was heading.

       "Now that doesn't happen for Light, but it could."

       :It doesn't happen because for it to happen, one of them must become Dark or at least Grey.:

       "So you are telling me that someone who is Light can't genuinely hate another of the Light?"

       :We aren't saying that. In fact some of the strongest warriors of the Light have been those who have recognised that they have hatred in their emotions. It was how they controlled it that made them so strong.:

       "Nice save," Harry complimented them. "But I can't be corrupted because you won't let that happen."

       :So you want to fight Fawkes?:

       "Dark can fight Dark and only one emerges. Why can't Light fight Light?"

       Harry sensed the Shadows blink before they seemed to take a deep breath. :We'd still prefer to go the other way. We know it works. We know nothing about this.:

       "Would it work?"

       :We don't know.:

       "I wouldn't be hurt though would I? At least not any worse than I could be hurt fighting anything else."

       :Probably not,: the Shadows said after a long pause. :We need time to think about this. Your concern is valid, Master. Bringing in another always has risks, but it is known to work but... Your idea does have some merit. We just aren't sure.:

       "Think about it please," Harry instructed as he mentally ran through a list of questions he wanted the answers for. It was getting late and he should be heading to breakfast shortly. "Ah! I almost forgot! How is my favourite Slytherin?"

       The Shadows laughed. :We think he's taken to inventing new swear words.:

       "Oh?"

       :He broke your charm during the blue moon.:

       "So he knows the truth?"

       :Yes, but he like the Vampire is trapped without proof. Actually, Draco has proof; it's in his mind. It's just incriminating to him as well.:

       "Will he strike?"

       :Not until he tests the waters.:

       Harry laughed. There was a note of deep satisfaction in his voice. "I'll look forward to our game then," he said.

       :And we will look forward to his defeat,: the Shadows said happily before they sighed, and Harry could detect a distinct note of reluctance from them.

       "What is it?"

       :Master, there is one thing you must deal with now. One thing we know you don't wish to.:

       "The girl."

       :We are well aware of your true feelings, but you must continue the charade and she is harbouring doubts.:

       "Doubts are normal," Harry tried to object, already knowing that it wasn't going to cut it.

       :Doubts are normal,: the Shadows agreed mildly. :But you are meant to be destined and her doubts are a telegraph for others. Master, your act is almost perfect, people believe what you want them to believe. Hers is not. If the vampire can't find the proof he needs looking at you, he will look at her. TThe same with Fawkes, and we absolutely cannot allow her to be Initiated into the Order of the Phoenix.:

       Harry shuddered at the thought. One look into Ginny's mind with all her knowledge and...well...at least he'd be back with Voldemort, but they would be facing a rejuvenated Light. One seething with the anger of betrayal, and he'd have no chance of saving any of his friends.

       "All right," he said tiredly. As they had said, they knew his preference; they would not have brought this up unless it was a realistic possibility. "I will take her to Hogsmeade, but won't the Order take that as a further need to protect her?"

       :They will, but you are very much an exception to the rule, Master. They will not Initiate her until she is seventeen and that will be too late.:

       "You'd better be sure about this."

       :We are. The Phoenix does not like exposing himself to an adolescent mind. The emotions are too changeable.:

       Harry snorted. Fawkes had a lot of peeves.

       :Go to breakfast, Master. This month will be interesting.:

       "In more ways than one," Harry said as he exited the room, heading down towards the Great Hall.

===

       Narcissa stood on the threshold. She had never intended to return here, but as she had thought about her plans she had realised she had to. She only hoped the wand maker didn't throw her out unconditionally. He might. He had told her what he believed she needed to do and he had been very clear. The fact that she had not agreed with his advice did not change his opinion, and when she was honest with herself, she could see his point. She had made a binding magical contract, but she had made it when she had not understood the consequences. And so she was taking the only method she knew to break it.

       "Come in!" the voice sounded around her and she started but obeyed, closing the door behind her as she took a few tentative steps into the shop.

       "What do you want?" Ollivander asked harshly.

       "I..."

       "I told you not to come back here."

       "I know," the blonde woman said, looking at the ground.

       "It's too late you know, even if you decided to honour your promise, it's too late."

       "I know," Narcissa agreed again before she gathered herself, "But that is not what I am here for. Even if I was inclined, I will not abandon my son."

       "So what do you want?" Silver eyes examined her closely, disappointment lurking in their depths.

       Suddenly Narcissa wasn't sure what she wanted. All her certainty, all her planning left her as she looked into the man's silver eyes and she went with the thing she had intended to ask last. "Please give this to my mother."

       Ollivander took the folded parchment. "You do realise that if it's a request to avenge you, I will be the hand that stops her?"

       "It isn't."

       The way the wand maker raised his eyebrow clearly spelled out his doubt, but he gestured for her to continue.

       Narcissa took a deep breath to steady herself. "I need to know something," she said finally.

       "What do you need to know?" There was almost an amused lilt in his tone.

       "Are all the sides defined?"

       Ollivander smiled. It was a very good question, one others should be asking, but assumed. While Narcissa was doomed, it was nice to know she retained at least some sense. "The sides are defined," he said.

       "Are all the players aligned?"

       "No."

       Narcissa's eyes closed and she turned her face to the ceiling as her breath hissed between her teeth. "Who?" she whispered.

       "You know I can't tell you that."

       She looked back at him, her eyes dull. "Please?"

       "No. And if that is all you are here for, then it's time for you to go," Ollivander said sharply.

       The witch turned away. "Just make sure my mother gets that," she murmured, reaching for the door.

       "I will."

       "I will not be back."

       "I know."

===

       Remus stood in a hallway of the Ministry. He was dressed in his best robes and his arm ached, but that was nothing he couldn't handle himself. Blackpelt stood beside him and the other werewolf's fidgeting was perversely making it easier for Remus to seem calm. He would have liked to have Longtooth with him, but the other werewolf was still recovering from the injuries Fenrir had inflicted upon him.

       He had requested a meeting with the Minister though he didn't expect to get one. For the sake of doing things lawfully, he felt he had to try. He wanted to have the Werewolves ally with the Shadows, but he had to at least try this first. He trusted Harry's servants, but they were an unknown path and many of the werewolves would probably like to go on a path they at least had heard of. The Dark Lord would no doubt persecute them, but going with the Shadows meant that at least for a time, both the Dark and Light forces would persecute them. Remus wasn't sure the werewolves were truly ready for the reality of such a situation.

       They'd been waiting for a few hours, but Remus was patient. He would wait all day, ignoring the looks he was getting from the witches and wizards who were working in the Ministry.

       "This is getting nowhere," Blackpelt murmured when another witch made a crude sign against evil.

       "Patience," Remus said softly. "We have to try this."

       "I don't see why. You want to go with the other option. You won, so all you need to do is give the order."

       Lupin smiled. "The Dark Lord or the Ministry are both the known paths with known dangers. Most of the pack would appreciate going along a known pathway, though I suspect we will be going down the unknown because I won't be going with the Dark Lord, even if this doesn't work."

       A Ministerial Aide walked up to them. The witch was young and was obviously nervous. Remus smiled at her, trying to put the young witch at ease though it didn't seem to work.

       "The Minister can't see you today," she said, though her voice was not very apologetic. "If you could come back tomorrow..."

       "The Minister does know who I represent?" Remus asked, trying to keep his voice level.

       "Of course!" the young witch objected. "You are a werewolf."

       "No, child," Remus informed her coldly. "I am the Pack Leader of the Isles."

       "The what?" she questioned, clearly not understanding.

       "The Pack Leader of the Isles," Lupin repeated.

       "I would suggest you come back tomorrow, or make an appointment with the Senior Secretary."

       "This is getting nowhere," Blackpelt repeated loud enough to be heard.

       "I do not see why a _werewolf_ should be granted an appointment with the Minister," the witch snarled.

       "That's it," Blackpelt growled. "Pack Leader, we should leave. There are better offers for us than the Ministry."

       "Oh, are there?"

       Remus turned to see Dumbledore and Xeoaph walking down the hall towards the Minister's office. It was the vampire who had spoken.

       "There are," Remus said. "I think you are correct," he said to Blackpelt. "Let's go."

       "Remus?" Dumbledore questioned, ignoring the way the young witch was looking at him.

       "Albus," Lupin greeted the old wizard.

       "What are you doing here?"

       "Albus," there was exasperation in Remus' tone. "I'm here for the Werewolves."

       "You have no official capacity though. You told me that yourself."

       "As of the last full moon, I have official capacity."

       "Then you should have seen me."

       "Albus," Remus said with infinite patience, as if he shouldn't have to be explaining this at all. "I will continue to help the Order, but Albus you aren't the Ministry. You can't give the Werewolves the laws the Minister can, and so I've chosen to try to see the Minister."

       "The Werewolves could have worked with us."

       Remus chuckled. "No, we can't, and I've already explained why."

       "Ah, the ancient enmity you persist in displaying?" Xeoaph said softly, breaking his silence.

       "As do you, every chance you get."

       "Now, now," Dumbledore said placatingly. "I'm sure we could work something out."

       "We will work _nothing_ out while you stand beside that murderer," Blackpelt snarled as Remus tried to shush him.

       Before anything else could be said another aide came up to them. "The Minister will see you now," the wizard said.

       "Ah, Nathaniel," Dumbledore greeted the wizard, "I expected Percy."

       "Percy is on a mission," Nathaniel told them, gesturing for Dumbledore and Xeoaph to proceed him further down the hallway, towards the Minister's office.

       "Remus, we will talk later," Dumbledore said, looking towards the Marauder Werewolf.

       "We will, Albus," Remus agreed. "But not about the Werewolves," he added before turning to Blackpelt, "Let's go, we have another meeting to arrange."

       "Finally!" the Muggleborn werewolf said with a smile.

       As Remus made his way down the corridor, he was sad. He had suspected that this would be the outcome, but somewhere deep inside, he had hoped to be wrong. He didn't really want to ally with the Ministry but he had hoped that they would be more open, that they would be more accepting, yet that possibility seemed gone forever.

       Or at least until there was a new power behind the Ministry.

       "Remus, wait!"

       Lupin was startled out of his thoughts by the cry, and he turned to see the Head of the DMLE hurrying down a corridor towards him.

       "Madam Bones," he greeted the older witch. "How can I help you?"

       As the witch came up to them, Remus saw the look in her eyes and from it, he knew that she knew that things had not gone well with his attempt to see the Minister.

       "I'm sorry," Amelia said, not really sure what she was apologising for.

       "It's not your fault," Remus said with a smile for her. He hadn't had many dealings with her, but those he had and those he had heard about all said that the woman was fair, tough but fair, and didn't care if one was a werewolf or not and he felt that he owed her an explanation.

       "The Minister would not see me," Remus said softly.

       "I suspected as much. What will you do now?"

       "As of the last full moon, I am the Pack Leader of the Isles," Lupin said, so that she would know he did speak for the Packs. "I will order the Werewolves to be neutral, but I know some will still serve the Dark Forces. I cannot help that, Madam Bones, not any more than you can help that some wizards will join him."

       The older witch sighed. "I know and I thank you," she said and Lupin could tell her thanks were real. "I will try to convince the others that the actions of one or even a few werewolves are not the actions of the whole, but they are unlikely to see it that way."

       "We are more than aware of that," Remus said. "I've had the time to become somewhat philosophical about it," he continued. "And now I find the double standards almost amusing... Or I do, when they are not dangerous."

       "I'm sorry," Amelia repeated.

       "Don't be. This is just the way things are. And if you will excuse me, I'm sure you are busy, Madam Bones, just as I am. We will see each other later."

       "Hopefully under better circumstances."

       "Indeed," Remus agreed, nodding towards the older witch as he continued up the corridor. Madam Bones was a good woman; at least the werewolves could expect that the Aurors might treat them fairly this year. It seemed such a little thing, but even the little things would help.

       "Can you get in touch with the others to arrange a date?" Remus asked Blackpelt.

       "Who do you want there?" the other werewolf asked as they emerged on to the street, blinking in the uncharacteristic December sun.

       "Yourself, Longtooth, if he's able, Razorclaw, and Talon."

       "Are you sure? Razorclaw was really hoping Fenrir won."

       "I'm sure," Remus said with an odd smile. "I want him there for that very reason. He needs to see that this offer is genuine and that the Dark Lord is not the only option we have."

       "I'll talk to him."

       "Find out if anyone needs any help as well."

       "Bloody hell!" Blackpelt growled. "I've become a secretary," he laughed.

       "Things they never tell you before you take up a role," Remus joked. "Pack Leaders really do need secretaries," he added turning to the other werewolf. "I lead to serve," Lupin said formally.

       "I follow to remember," Blackpelt replied, his voice equally formal as he took his leave from the Pack Leader of the Isles. They'd come a long way since the full moon, but they still had further to travel and the sooner they started on that path, the quicker they would reach the end.

===

       Gideon didn't want to do this. But as one of the few fully invested werewolves in the Dark Lord's forces, it now fell to him to relate to his Lord the Werewolves' decision. It should have been _Fenrir,_ but the man had gotten himself killed. Not that Gideon could find it in his heart to blame Remus. The leadership battle had been, in the end, one to the death so it was either kill or die. It's just that no one had thought that Lupin would win over Greyback. There were quite a few of the pack who were thankful, but those who had run with Greyback personally, they were pissed. They would not attack the new leader though, not without other backing, and they had not been introduced to the Dark Lord, which was why Gideon was now here. He ached. The effects of the full moon weighed heavily on him. But he had forced himself to be aware and was dressed in his Death Eater robes, his mask tucked under one arm as he awaited his audience.

       His Lord was a very busy wizard. Gideon had always known that there was more to running the Dark Forces than simply giving some orders, but over the past few months, he'd begun to see how much work it really was. His Lord oversaw _everything_ from training to attacks, to healing and to finances. Every little detail of his forces was under his surveillance and all his subordinates received his personal attention, some more so than others. It depended on their needs. Gideon had been left to his own devices most of the time. His Lord had ensured that he was adequately trained in combat, but the werewolf knew he was not anything special. He was merely a soldier, one of the frontline troops. He had not expected anything more. The real fighters, those his Lord spent a lot more time with...they scared him.

       Yet in the last few weeks, he had been taking on more duties. He had been talking to the werewolves, as many as he could, to find out what they wanted. He hadn't made any secret of who he was and who he served, but most had been content to talk and Gideon was surprised at the level of support that was with the werewolves for the new offer. In part, that was because it was _new_ but there was also a sense of strength. The new offer gave them a Blood Oath, and that gave them _power_. While most of the werewolves would never be in a position to make the call on the Oath, the mere fact of its existence was enough to make them feel empowered.

       That's how he now found himself waiting upon his Lord's pleasure. Because he'd been talking to the werewolves, he knew what the outcome of the leadership battle was and he was now the one nominated to tell his Lord.

       "Gideon." One of the Death Eaters standing at the door called him and he rose, brushing his hands down over his robes to smooth them out.

       The instant he entered the Throne Room, Gideon was aware of the watching eyes. Not just the red eyes of his Lord, but the yellow serpentine eyes of the snakes that were wrapped around the throne and the unseen but calculating eyes of the Death Eater body guards.

       "Gideon," Voldemort greeted him as he bowed. "I take it Fenrir is injured?" The way he said it was not a question and the young werewolf shuddered slightly at what he was about to say.

       "No, my Lord."

       "Then why are you here?"

       "Fenrir is dead, my Lord," Gideon hoped that getting the announcement out of the way would help.

       "Fenrir is dead?" The skeptism in his Lord's voice was obvious.

       "Remus Lupin is the Pack Leader for the Isles."

       "And how was Fenrir killed?"

       Gideon blinked. It wasn't the question he expected. "I don't know, my Lord, but he is dead. His body has been seen and his pack is preparing him for burial."

       The werewolf watched as the Dark Lord took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Clearly the Dark lord had not expected this news though he was taking it better than the werewolf thought he might.

       "And what are the Pack Leader's plans?"

       "I believe he will try to speak to the Ministry. Lupin has always been known to favour them."

       "Yes, he is a member of the Order of the Phoenix," Voldemort sighed. "I will not have the Werewolves lost to me this way."

       Gideon tensed. "I can suggest he speak with you, my Lord, but I doubt he will voluntarily come."

       "Unlikely," the Dark Lord agreed, "though should the opportunity arise, suggest it anyway. For any other werewolves you speak to, let them know I look after those who serve me."

       "My Lord," Gideon saluted. "Do you want me to ask how Fenrir died?"

       "No, that is not necessary," Voldemort said. "It does not matter now; he was killed. You are dismissed, Gideon, though report back tomorrow. If you are to be my liaison with the Werewolves, you will need further training. I will attend to it."

       Gideon nodded at his Lord again before he turned and left, happy to have escaped relatively unscathed and already dreading what the morrow would bring. As soon as he was out of the Throne Room, Gideon took three steps down the corridor and collapsed, letting himself slide down the wall as he sucked in air. He had not been aware how nervous he had been until now.

       And it wasn't until then that he realised he had never told his Lord about the other offer the Werewolves had been given.

       From the Throne Room Gideon heard a scream and he shuddered, suddenly thankful that his Lord was not torturing him. He didn't know who it might be but he didn't care. For now, he was safe. He would tell his Lord about the other offer tomorrow.

===

       The first thing Snape noticed was that he was warm and lying on something soft. The next thing he noticed was the silence. It was total and almost seemed to make its own noise with a hum just under his conscious hearing. And oddly that is what convinced him that he wasn't still in the Dark Lord's tender care and he opened his eyes.

       It was his roof.

       That's not right, Snape thought as his eyes closed again. His limbs felt heavy and he recognised the lingering traces of the Cruciatus Curse in them. He'd either need a few specialised potions or more rest but why had the Shadows transported him back to his own house?

       :Because it's the best place,: their echoy voice whispered. :It will be under a Fidel charm shortly.:

       "Don't move," another voice cautioned and a damp cloth was applied to his forehead.

       Severus tried to nod and was immediately sorry that he did when his head began pounding. A vial that felt like one of his was held to his lips and he drank, recognising the pain killing potion before he slipped back under.

       When he awoke a second time, it was again to warmth and silence but this time his limbs felt different. The effects of the Cruciatus Curse were gone though he still felt weak.

       :There's some strengthening potions on your bedside table. Take them and get up,: the Shadow's instructed unnecessarily. Even if they hadn't suggested it, he fully intended to go to his personal stores and do just that.

       "So what happens now?" Snape asked as he took the first of the potions. They had been taken from his stocks and usually he'd complain but not this time.

       :You go have a bath and get dressed, and then give the secret of this location to one of our agents.:

       "Then what?" He resisted the urge to snort. The Shadow's answers were sometimes singularly unhelpful since all of that he could deduce for himself.

       :Then we want Wolfsbane in large amounts and a few other potions but you will have plenty of time to brew and experiment.:

       "The Werewolves will never agree to follow you," Snape said as he rose to his feet, wavering a little unsteadily.

       :Let us worry about that,: the Shadow's chided gently. :Do you want to meet him?:

       "Meet who?" There was hot bath already drawn for him and Severus stripped off the clammy clothing he had been wearing and slipped into the hot water with a grateful sigh.

       :Our Master.:

       The Potion Master took a deep breath as things came together for him. "I already know who that is and I presume he's playing both sides." The brat would be arrogant enough to try that.

       :No, one side is perfectly aware of what he is doing,: the Shadow's explained.

       "Ah," Snape said yet the rise in feeling he'd expected did not come and for the first time in years he realised he did not care. He genuinely did not care what was happening and he had no reason to care. Potter had made his own choices, and so he was old enough to make his own mistakes. And right now, the warmth of the water was seeping into his bones and that was feeling enough.

       :There is one thing you could do for us after you've cleaned up a little,: the hollow voice continued.

       "What do you need?"

       :We'd really appreciate it if you could write down every credential you've got as a Potion Master. Brag and boast, don't be shy on this.:

       "I've become a selling point," Severus grumbled.

       :Yes. Your skills are well known but let's show them off a bit and air out those awards you have accumulated.:

       "I don't actually have many you know," Snape said matter of factly.

       :Have many what?:

       "Qualifications. Dumbledore never let me and Voldemort didn't care so long as I was capable."

       :Hmm,: the Shadow's voice was soft as they considered. :We have something else for you to do then. Apply for accreditation with whoever will accept you.:

       Severus nodded. "That I can do."

       :Good,: the Shadows said before falling silent as Snape enjoyed the bath. It was one of those simple luxuries that so many did not appreciate but after coming so close to death it was one of those things he intended to enjoy.

       It was about twenty minutes later when the water was just turning cool and Severus was considering charming it to become hot again when the Shadow's spoke. :Get up and dry off, breakfast is ready and our agent has a few more things to do today.:

       The Potion Master sighed but acknowledged the point that it would be decadent to remain in the bath, no matter how nice it felt and he did as they bade, dressing with some relief in his normal robes and noticing that the heavy black robes that were his Death Eater Uniform were not present in his closet.

       It wasn't until he walked into his kitchen, taking in the plate of waiting food and seeing the other wizard sitting at the table, a mug of tea in their hands that Snape really knew what he had agreed to.

       "This wasn't my idea," the wizard snapped. "And definitely isn't what I thought I'd be doing, so eat your breakfast and after I get out of here we won't mention it again."

       Snape snorted as he sat down, silently agreeing with the assessment. "So you are to be the Secret keeper?" He asked as he began on the surprisingly well cooked breakfast.

       The wizard looked amused. "No one will ever expect it."

       "I've heard that before."

       "I know," regret lay heavy in the agreement. "But I'm not a rat."

       "True enough," Snape agreed, pulling a piece of parchment to him and a quill and he began to write out his qualifications as requested, ignoring the other man who watched him as he ate. He'd agreed to the Shadow's proposal but this was about as civil as he would ever be with the man who had been his bane in school and one he was now meant to trust with his location. It was best for all concerned that they did not speak. Unfortunately no one told Black. Thankfully the man was all business.

       "Groceries will be delivered once a week to the back of the house on a small section that won't be under protection. Potion ingredients will come at intervals and I or someone else will courier the Wolfsbane to wherever it is needed. If you leave it where the groceries are, we won't even need to see each other."

       "I think I can manage that," Snape said with as much grace as he could muster. "Though I'm to be trapped here?"

       :Somewhat,: the Shadows said. :The papers will be delivered and there will be errands but for the moment staying put is the safest option. Your former Lord would still very much like to play further.:

       "He's still got Lucius and I didn't like that v..." Snape feel silent as he realised he'd never told Fawkes about the Vampire that was standing at the Dark Lord's side.

       "Given that Fawkes betrayed you, it's a good thing that you didn't tell him everything," Sirius said with an almost gentle voice and after a moment the Potion Master was forced to agree. He'd told Fawkes enough, if the Fire Bird had of honoured their agreement _then_ he could have felt that he betrayed the Order though how he was meant to do that in death Snape didn't know. The Order had betrayed him, he owed them nothing.

       "Just like you've not told him everything?" Snape forced himself to question with some of his usual vitriol.

       "He's never asked," Black grinned, his eyes shining. "And the real kicker is they've never asked Harry either."

       "Well, I can say, without being facetious, that I truly do not care."

       "True," Black conceded the point. "But you will come to find it as sickening as I do as the year goes on." And with that the man fell silent, letting the Potion Master eat his breakfast before they attended to the day's tasks.

===


	36. Bow Unto Me

Weapon   
Chapter 36 Bow Unto Me

       Xeoaph looked over his children. They had all recovered, physically at least, from the battles of the previous year. Most looked fit and healthy, lean and ready to fight but the real wounds were different. They were in the gaps still present in the ranks and those wounds would be decades in the healing. Even so, they would continue on this path, because it was the only way.

       He knew, every time he looked at the Potter childling, he knew that somehow the boy was a façade but he had never been able to catch the young wizard in the lie. And with Fawkes having a mental presence in the boy, nothing less than absolute proof would be sufficient. The elder vampire sighed. He would grant that the boy was a superlative actor, he had to be to be fooling the phoenix but that skill would mean nothing in the end. He would have the proof he required.

       For now though he had another ploy by the Shadows to attempt to counter. The problem was he wasn’t sure if he could.

       When he’d been called with Dumbledore to the Ministry the other day he had thought nothing of it, until he’d seen the bodies. At first glance they appeared have been killed by a vampire. There were bite marks on their necks and very little blood remained in the body.

       “Father, what is it?” Jissa asked. She wasn’t Ikhan but her desire to take Ikhan’s place as his second was obvious. Thus far Xeoaph did not care so long as the job was done.

       “The Shadows are playing, and I am forced to wonder why I even wish to save most wizards,” Xeoaph sighed.

       “What has happened?”

       “There have been deaths. Stupid low brow Wizards have been killed and the killer deliberately made it look like we killed them.”

       “But we haven’t!” the female vampire objected. “Your orders were strict Father and we have been obeying. No wizards have been bitten, not even those who would willingly give themselves to us.”

       Now that was one reason Xeoaph wasn’t sure Jissa could replace Ikhan. His former second in command would never have made such an obvious statement. “I am aware of this Jissa, the ignorant gossiping wizards are not.

       “The Minister knows, the Auror’s know that the dead wizards were not killed by a vampire. They know it was the blood draining charm and a sharp knife that made it look like the work of one of us but they are not the wizarding public, and some idiot witch or wizard found the bodies and they’ve made the assumptions and are pointing the finger.”

       “So have the Ministry publish the truth,” Jissa shrugged.

       “My child, if only it was that simple. The wizarding sheep have just learned that the Ministry was lying to them for a great deal of time about the Dark Lord’s return. They are unlikely to believe some disclaimer, no matter how true, that it was not a vampire who killed those wizards. Though we have convinced The Daily Prophet to publish the autopsy results and to run an editorial.”

       “Father, why are you even worried?” Jissa asked suddenly. “Even if it was true, boo, hoo, hoo, some vampire ate some wizards. Surprise, surprise, that’s what we do to food! What makes these ones so special that they care about them?”

       Xeoaph chuckled softly. “They don’t. The Ministry admits these wizards were thugs, barely able to use magic. But,” he snapped the word, “because they could hold a wand, suddenly they are sacrosanct.”

       “So who did kill them?”

       “I don’t know which agent, but I will bet that the Shadows did.”

       “Why?”

       The elder vampire smiled over at his child, not sure if she was genuinely asking or if she was trying to lead his thoughts. Her expression was ingenious and almost innocent but there was a slight smile on her lips. Jissa already knew at least some of these answers but she was fishing for others, trying to help him formulate a plan. “To distract and discredit. We aren’t the only one’s playing both sides. The Shadow’s may _say_ it’s rogue’s serving the Dark Lord but I do not believe it. Their Master is fully aware of their duplicity and their Master is playing his own game. Whether he is truly on the Dark Lord’s side, or on his own side, he is not the paragon of Light the weak minded fools expect and they will pay the price.”

       “So bite him?” Jissa suggested with a smirk.

       Bite him, turn Harry Potter into a slave who’s only thought was to obey his Vampire Master. It was a nice thought but Xeoaph knew the boy already had the strength of mind to resist and if he had truly taken of his blood, as had been insinuated in the Atrium, then he ran the risk of turning the boy, or at least making a Halfling. And a wizard Halfling with control over the Shadow’s may not be able to kill them all, but would certainly be more than powerful enough to kill many before he was inevitably taken down. Still... it was a nice thought.

       “Unfortunately my child, that is not a viable option. The boy might be sly and cunning, he may rely on the Shadow’s for his power but he is not weak. He’d fight.”

       “All the more fun when he submits.”

       “The Shadow’s would also fight.”

       “Yet we are the true Dark.”

       “And the Ministry and Dumbledore would bitch.”

       “Maybe later then?”

       “Oh, so you want him?” Xeoaph asked his child.

       “I admit Father, I would not object to coupling with such a pretty little wizard.”

       “Do not become obsessed my child. He would just as soon as rip your heart out, than sleep with you. He claims Ikhan died by accident, by being too close to a defensive charm he was warned was being cast. I say that’s a lie and Ikhan was murdered but for the moment, we need him and we need him trapped on the Light side because no matter how much I dislike the thought, he is the one destined to kill the Dark Lord.”

       “Then Father, we need to at least attempt to have the wizards gain faith in us again. I don’t like it but you are correct, the public good will of the wizarding sheep is for the moment something we need.”

       “And that is the very reason the Shadow’s killed those wizards. They mean nothing, they are nothing. They died merely to plant the seeds of doubt.”

       “So we need to sow the seeds of hope,” Jissa countered. “Or at least the seeds of reason.”

       Ancient blue eyes blinked... “Say that again,” Xeoaph whispered.

       “Or at least the seeds of reason?” Jissa said, making the sentence a question.

       “Or at least the seeds of reason,” Xeoaph breathed with a smile. That was it! The Shadow’s thrived on doubt and mistrust, on whispered words in the dark and insinuation. They never told the whole truth, relying on that little bit of the unknown to turn events in their favour. And that was why they were such masters of manipulation. He hated them but he was wise enough to give them credit where it was due. So what he had to do now went against the grain, went against the normal practice of vampires but to combat the Shadow’s he had to do it.

       “My dear,” he smiled at his child. “I think you just hit on something.”

       “Father?”

       “You said it earlier, I instructed that we do not feed from wizards and we have not been, not even those who would voluntarily come to us. It’s time to change that and it’s time to make that public. We will call for volunteers, for those witches and wizards who are not scared to feed us in exchange for our services and we will be scrupulous. We will not kill, we will not hurt, and we will not control. We will let them see us, in an idolised way, let them have the pleasure rush from feeding and we will make it very clear that we do not feed from unwilling wizards, we do not kill.

       “It will take a little while but that public display will serve.”

       “In more ways than one, Father,” Jissa said, her eyes bright. “Even if we do not control now, we will remember the taste of control and those who might be suitable can be called and tested once the upstart darkness is driven back.”

       “Indeed,” Xeoaph replied. “Tell everyone there are no changes yet and to be careful when they feed, least some idiot wizard spot them but I will make the arrangements to get the wizarding sheep to feed us.”

===

       Voldemort looked down at the Death Eater before him. They were babbling something about being attacked by the Shadow’s but he wasn’t entirely listening. There new werewolf Pack Leader had made no move to contact him. Not that he expected Remus Lupin to but that idiot Greyback had promised him the werewolves, and he had, rather stupidly it seemed, been counting them as his already.

       And then Greyback went and lost the most important battle of his life. Voldemort was not naïve enough to believe that defeat was impossible with the augmented healing he had granted the other werewolf, but he was surprised. Lupin was one of the few werewolves actually trained as a wizard and so while he may have been able to see the accelerated healing as an animal there should have been very little he could have done about it except die. The fact that he won, by all accounts taking Fenrir on in a one to one battle spoke very highly of his werewolf ability or at the very least, his hatred of his creator. He could not deny Remus the right to lead, but he could regret the fact that the werewolf was firmly on Dumbledore’s side despite the failure to meet with the Minister.

       “What are you drivelling about?” the Dark Lord finally snarled, his wand levelled at the Death Eater who cowered before him. “You were defeated by some wizard who you claim was a Shadow agent?”

       “Yes, Master.”

       “And you dare to show you face?”

       “Master?”

       “If it truly was a Shadow agent, then I’m surprised you aren’t dead! And if it wasn’t, you dare to come before me to tell me you were defeated?” The logic of his followers sometimes escaped him. Especially the lower tiers.

       “Why don’t you let me deal with him?” Kisha’s seductive voice whispered and the Dark Lord was so fed up he merely flicked one white hand in agreement.

       “Master, no please!” The man cried as the elder vampire glided towards him.

       Voldemort just closed his eyes. Was the wizard such an idiot? The only reply he would get from him was the Crucio curse for his failure and they knew that. So why did they call out for mercy? He would gladly torture the wizard. Cries wrung from the lips of those who were lost were highly arousing but since his bed was cold and empty, there was little point in arousal. Finishing himself was hollow and the Dark Lord would wait until his mate once again slept there so he could plunge into Harry’s inviting warmth, revel in the tight heat as he came. Then arousal would be called for.

       There was a choked scream and the sound of a futile struggle that Voldemort assumed was Kisha subduing the wizard but it was a third voice that caught his attention.

       “Well, there is a certain irony in this.”

       Red eyes snapped open and the Dark Lord took in the scene all at once. Kisha had her fangs sunk deep into the throat of the Death Eater and the man was staring blankly at the far wall. He was bent back, his legs under him but giving no support and it was the elder vampires’ strength that was keeping him up. The Shadow’s servant was on the other side a good five metres away from Kisha, leaning against one of the pillars in the room, his black eyes showing sardonic amusement.

       “And here I came to apologise for attacking him,” the Shadow servant continued, gesturing to the Death Eater.

       Voldemort heard the lie and he could tell Kisha did as well but the lie was intriguing. The Shadow’s would never apologise for attacking but they _had_ attacked the Death Eater.

       “Kisha, it’s so good to see you again.”

       “As it is you,” the elder vampire replied, letting the Death Eater’s body drop as she wiped the blood from her mouth. “I was afraid I hurt you.”

       “Oh no no, never fear,” the man laughed. “I am sorry I had to dash though. Pressing appointments elsewhere, you understand.”

       “Think nothing of it.”

       “I don’t.”

       The Dark Lord watched the by-play reading the truth. So Kisha and this Shadow Servant had had a little run in with each other, one that the Elder Vampire had won which was not that surprising. No one had accused her of being weak but the Shadow Servant still stood there, secure in his power.

       “You owe me a second date,” Kisha purred and somehow the Shadow Servant looked repentant.

       “For a woman as divine as you, I am honoured that you would grant me the pleasure of a second date. I’ll clear my schedule some time.”

       “I’ll look forward to it.”

       “So will I.”

       “Will your master allow it?”

       The Dark Lord looked at the Shadow Servant intently. Their answer would be telling.

       The man chuckled. “My dear, I have very strict instructions regarding the Shadow Lord but they can be summarised in two words; ‘Stay away’. And that is exactly what I do. You might consider it onerous to be in thrall to the Shadows but I get a great deal of enjoyment from it, enjoyment I wouldn’t get by being a slave to the Light’s Golden Child.”

       “Imagine how much more fun you would have with me?”

       “Tempting my dear, but I’m not suited for the guise of eternity.”

       “Ah-hem!” Voldemort broke in. Their jabs were amusing but there had to be some reason the Shadow’s had sent their servant.

       “Ah yes,” the Shadow Servant said brightly, “Why am I here?” He questioned, his voice almost laughing.

       “Yes, why are you here?” Kisha asked, her purple eyes narrowing as she assessed the distance.

       The man was masked but the Dark Lord saw the grin he flashed the elder vampire. “With the Veela about to announce their allegiance to the Ministry, and the werewolves being... somewhat intractable shall we say, I thought to offer my services during the forthcoming assault.”

       “The vast majority of the werewolves will follow me,” Voldemort said confidently.

       “No, they won’t,” the Shadow Servant objected, his voice firm. “And if you attack Remus, even fewer will come to you. Regardless of how you feel the fight should have turned out, or what an individual werewolf might think, Remus Lupin won the battle. That makes him the strongest werewolf on the Isles and for those who think like a pack, that makes him the Leader of the Pack. And a pack follows its leader, where they lead, not where the individual wishes to go.”

       “You speak like one who knows.”

       “I’m not a werewolf, if that’s what you are trying to insinuate my dear. But I do know the thoughts of a pack and for now, the Dark Lord is best leaving the werewolves be and extending a generous hand to those who do follow him, in the hopes of enticing others.”

       Voldemort took a deep breath. He was getting the feeling that something else was going on with the Werewolves, that there was another game at play here but he could not work out what. “What will your services cost me?”

       “I’m pretty cheap this time. All we want...”

       “We?” Kisha snorted.

       “My dear, you already know I represent the Shadows who work with the Dark Lord. I’m a part of them so yes, their desire is my desire.”

       “What do you want?” Voldemort asked again.

       The man took a deep breath before he spoke in a clipped tone, “The assurance that you will not kill the Shadow Lord in this battle.”

       “What!?” The objection came from the elder vampire while the Dark Lord hid his smile.

       Black eyes looked over at her, their gaze hard and unyielding. “I may stay away from the Shadow Lord because I do not wish to be subject to his demands, but I will defend him with my life if it is necessary.”

       “Yet you dare to claim you are independent?”

       “I am! The Shadows I work for are independent of the Shadow Lord, yet they also realise they need him to exist _somewhere_. So make no mistake vampire, to strike at the Shadow Lord you will have to go through me.”

       “That’s not a problem,” Kisha purred, flexing her fingers into claws.

       “Enough!” The Dark Lord couldn’t avoid feeling like he was some teacher, breaking an argument up in the classroom. “The two of you may fight elsewhere,” he snapped before fixing red eyes on the Shadow Servant. “You do not wish me to kill the one being who is supposed to be my doom?”

       The man was silent for a moment. “In this battle,” he elaborated, his voice sure and the Dark Lord was impressed. He would never kill his beloved, and the Shadow Servant knew it and no true slave of the Shadows could do other than protect the Shadow Lord but the man before him seemed completely at ease with the thought of the Shadow Lord’s demise, just so long as it did not happen this time.

       “You drive a very hard bargain,” Voldemort murmured. “I had hoped to catch them unawares and to kill the boy before he was truly ready.”

       “They already know you are going to attack,” the Shadow Servant shrugged, as if the information was common knowledge. “Some idiot told Severus and he blabbed to the Phoenix.”

       “You are remarkably well informed.”

       “It’s my job to be informed. So... Do you accept?”

       Voldemort sighed theatrically. “I recall I did tell Dumbledore that I would enjoy breaking the boy to my will before I killed him,” he murmured. “You had better be worth the price.”

       “For the way this battle is likely to go, I’m cheap,” the Shadow Servant shrugged.

       Kisha was shaking her head though she was wise enough to remain silent. Her conclusions were obvious but still unproven and if the Vampires were that sure of the alliance between the Shadow Lord and the Serpent Lord then there was only one path they could take. But they appeared to be content to wait.

       The Shadow Servant turned to the elder vampire. “My dear, I beg your forgiveness, as much as I would love to bask in your glory, I must dash again. A thrall’s work is never done.”

       “You are no more thrall that I am,” purple eyes burned but she made no move towards the man.

       “True,” he said deprecatingly, the smile in his voice. “Imagine how much fun you could have if you were like me?” he echoed her earlier words.

       The elder vampire was startled for an instant before she nodded gracefully. “Tempting, but I’m not suited for the guise of submission.”

       The way the man looked her over was nothing short of scandalous and his black eyes glowed, “I’m almost positive we could work something out,” he said in an arch voice before he bowed towards the Dark Lord and turned away, heading towards the door.

       Voldemort chuckled when he felt his coil of surprise at the movement. He was so used to the Shadow’s and the Shadow Servants appearing where they wanted, when they wanted, no matter what wards he had up that he was almost disappointed to see the man calmly walk to the door and slip through it.

       “And so now you see,” Kisha whispered, turning towards the Dark Lord, “the Shadows will never let you have ultimate victory.”

       The red eyed wizard shrugged, dismissing her words. “The Shadows have always made it clear to me that their so called Lord must live,” he stated easily. “But they never specified how much life he had to have,” the Dark Lord added with a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes.

       “Crucio?”

       “For a while, but the outcome is not certain on that, so if he does not submit to me as a good little catamite then a medical charm is more certain and on this, I want certainty.”

       Kisha created a little illusion and walked around the projected image of Harry Potter, examining him closely. “He’s handsome,” she said before looking deep into the green eyes. “But he has spirit.”

       Voldemort smiled, and waved one hand to dismiss the image. “If he did not have spirit breaking him would be no fun and I anticipate a great deal of pleasure to look down and see him willingly wrap those pretty little lips around me, and to later hear him beg to be ridden.”

       Purple eyes blinked, as if Kisha realised for the first time his desire towards the Boy-Who-Lived before she shook black hair back over one shoulder. “I suppose it does not matter,” she murmured, moving towards the door as well. “I want the Shadow’s put in their proper place and if the one who commands them is the pathic of the Dark Lord, I suppose that is place enough for them.”

       She looked back towards him. “Good day my Lord,” Kisha added when she reached the door, her eyes ageless. “Thank you for the meal.” She made a vague gesture towards the forgotten body of the Death Eater that was sprawled on the stone, blood sluggishly dripping from the gaping wound on his neck to freeze with the rest of the blood that was forming the floor of the throne room.

       “Good day, my Lady Kisha,” Voldemort said with a formal nod. “We will discuss plans further anon.”

       “We will,” the elder vampire’s voice echoed from the corridor before the doors closed and Voldemort was left alone in his Throne Room, his red eyes hooded as he thought of Harry.

===

       -It’s been too long.-

       The hiss was whispered in the dark and there were several sibilant replies. The area was large and while stone was usually cold, the Dark Lord had infused this part of his stronghold with warming charms so that the serpents who lived there were comfortable.

       There were many serpents of all varieties but the largest and most dangerous were the basilisks and they were carefully twined around each other.

       -It has been but we cannot just rest,- one said yellow eyes almost glowing.

       -Should we call those in the Amazon?-

       -Not yet,- Xeloc’s voice was deep.

       -Are you healed?- Xuld asked.

       -Are you?- the question was returned.

       -He was your father.-

       -And he was your brother.-

       -My fangs itch for the one responsible,- Xuld hissed, her voice tight.

       -We will taste him together,- Xeloc whispered.

       -Has Xatarass asked for anything?-

       -Father will not ask.-

       -He should not have to. We may not always understand wizards but we know enough. What is causing the most problem?- Xentor asked.

       -There is no fighting at the moment,- Xar said. –It’s hard to tell. The Goblins perhaps?-

       -The Phoenix,- Xal hissed.

       -The Phoenix is an ongoing problem,- Ximond said mildly, -and he will be dealt with. The Goblins are something we can deal with though.-

       -How?-

       -How what?-

       -How is the Phoenix going to be dealt with?-

       -Xaos is already in position. I suspect he will be our final victory over the Phoenix.-

       -The Goblins,- Ximond repeated, bringing his extended families attention back towards something they could directly deal with.

       -We could all wear our fangs down to the gums and not deal with them.-

       -But there are other ways of dealing with species.-

       -You suggest capture?-

       -A few yes. What did Xara always say?-

       -That others can speculate but every species knows the best way to kill itself.-

       -So we capture some goblins and ask them how to kill their species?- Xentor chuckled.

       -I will go,- Xeloc hissed.

       -You need to heal!-

       -I’m healed enough for this. I intend only to provide transport. Ximond, Xentor and Xal can do the capture.-

       -I’ll go instead of Xal,- Xar spoke for the first time.

       -I will go Xar!- Xal hissed with sudden anger. –I have to go. Capture is easier for us females.-

       -Which is why you can’t go,- Xar tried to argue.

       -Do not take my gender as weakness.-

       -Do not take any of us as being weak.-

       -I don’t,- Xar tried to say but the other male’s shushed him to let their largest member speak.

       -You are not weak,- Ximond hissed. –We are the line of Ximir, none of us are weak, but Xal, you smell different. Are you carrying?-

       -Ximond is correct, you do smell different,- Xeloc said after sampling the air. –I am sorry I did not notice Xal.-

       Xal hissed, the noise obviously contemplative.

       -Xal, I will go,- Xuld said.

       -Until we are sure, Xal, you will remain here,- Ximond gave the instruction and all the basilisks shifted slightly, moving to protect Xal despite the fact they were deep in their lair.

       -May I go?- Xeros asked differentially. He was the youngest and had not been allowed out unescorted. –It should be fairly safe.-

       Xeloc and Ximond as the two eldest shared a long look before Ximond nodded. –You may go,- he said, forestalling any argument.

       Xeros was wise enough to nod without giving any indication of his elation. He had to appear controlled, and old enough that he should be allowed out by himself.

       Xeloc coiled himself around Xal and Xoui while Xuld touched noses with Xeros. –There is one more thing,- the large basilisk said. –I believe, Xaos will for fill our vow to Xeau, to see Fawkes dead but that still leaves things Xatarass may need, enemies we may yet have to face. I wish to grow.-

       -No!- Ximond made the denial. –If any of us are to do that, I should be the one.-

       Ximond and Xeloc were almost the same size though Xeloc was a generation older. –No, Ximond,- Xeloc said firmly while the others watched and listened. –You are Xatarass’ heir. You must lead us. This is why there are two lines, one to lead and one to fight.-

       -Then it should be me,- Xentor hissed.

       -Not yet, Xentor,- Xeloc hissed, almost fondly.

       -What do you think we will need to fight?-

       -I don’t know,- Xeloc said, -but I want us to be prepared for anything Xatarass may wish us to fight.-

       Xuld looked up at her uncle, -Are you sure?-

       -I am sure,- Xeloc said firmly.

       -Check with Xatarass,- Ximond said finally. –If this is truly your wish, Xeloc, we will honour it.-

       -My brothers, my sisters, you honour me. I will honour you,- Xeloc intoned formally and at his words all the basilisks turned towards him, bowing their heads.

===

       Remus looked around the clearing. The moon was half full but gave light enough to make the dusting of snow glow. He and the other Pack Leaders were rugged up against the cold bite in the air. Winter was coming and it was spreading to embrace them all. Thankfully there was no wind, and the stars were visible overhead. The usual drip of water in the Forbidden Forest was silenced and even the air smelt a little cleaner, curtsy of the frozen water that lay over everything.

       They were a little early, so they were waiting and Remus wondered if he would see Sirius today. He wasn’t sure that the Shadows would be willing to expose their link to both sides no matter the fact that he was here to seal their alliance.

       “Are they going to make us wait all night?” Razorclaw snarled.

       “We are early,” Longtooth soothed. The older werewolf was barely healed enough from his fight with Fenrir but he insisted he was well enough for this and Remus was thankful he had come. He was a sensible man. Razorclaw was more of Greyback’s ilk but he was necessary as well. Lupin wanted the more aggressive werewolf to see that alliance with someone other than the Dark Lord was not only possible but profitable.

       There was a soft squelch from the far side of the clearing and Remus felt his eyes widen when he saw Sirius, in the guise of the Shadow Servant step gently over the ground, his eyes looking everywhere.

       “You aren’t the Shadow Lord,” Talon accused but Sirius ignored the remark as he continued to look around, obviously assessing the situation.

       Finally black eyes turned towards the werewolf who had spoken and Remus could see by the way he blinked that the Shadows were strongly with him. “And you aren’t the Pack Leader.”

       “Calm down,” Remus spoke before anyone could retaliate, “He’s here to make sure this is not a trap,” the wizard werewolf explained for the benefit of his fellows.

       “Indeed,” Sirius agreed with his Shadow hidden voice. “I am an agent,” he elaborated. “When all is said and done, I am expendable. The Shadow Lord is not.”

       “That’s enough!”

       Remus recognised Harry’s voice only because he was so familiar with it but he would have never recognised the small form that stepped from the deeper darkness behind Sirius as being the young man. And that was probably the point he realised ruefully.

       Harry was dressed much as reports had been given of his attire in the Atrium but there were a few changes. For one his hood was swept back but his face was covered by a mask much like Sirius’ and his eyes.... Remus suppressed a shudder. Harry’s usually green eyes seemed black with no sclera. His hair was slicked down to lie almost neatly against his head and his robes were heavy, black and seemed unadorned by protective sigils. Lupin hadn’t seen the Harry of the Atrium but he was willing to bet there was enough difference that even if one of the Pack Leaders found an image, there would be little to link the two.

       “You are the Shadow Lord?” Razorclaw snapped.

       “I am.”

       “How do we know that?” Blackpelt asked the question with considerably more grace than the other Werewolf.

       “The same way I know Remus Lupin is the Pack Leader of the Isles.”

       It took Talon and Razorclaw a moment to work that out but it was long enough for Longtooth to snort in amusement and murmur his agreement. No one had provided proof beyond their word... There was no proof beyond their word.

       “So, here we are,” Harry continued, ignoring the more aggressive werewolves as he addressed Remus. “I take it the Ministry was less than accommodating and you do not wish to make an alliance with the Dark Lord?”

       Remus smiled at Harry. The young wizard was no doubt completely aware of what had transpired at the Ministry but the way he phrased it allowed for one to doubt his absolute knowledge. “The Dark Lord is still an option,” he replied and almost surprised himself when he realised the truth of his words. “He is just one I do not wish the Werewolves to pursue because he is divisive and will lead, eventually to our doom.”

       “Explain.”

       “Half the Packs would serve him and half would serve under protest,” Remus’ voice took on a speculative air and he was aware when the other Pack Leader’s looked at him. They had obviously not thought he would even consider allying with the Dark Lord Voldemort and they were interested in his reasoning. “In time, those who did not wish to serve would not, and the Dark Lord would see that as betrayal. For some reason, werewolves are seen as a whole. Where one goes, all must follow and all are culpable for the actions of a few.

       “Even the Dark Lord views us that way, so that those who do not serve him would be seen as betraying him, and those who did serve could never make up for that betrayal. And in the end, we would once again be hunted.”

       Blackpelt, Talon and Longtooth nodded, their eyes downcast. Remus’ explanation was simplified but his logic was true and they were ashamed of not having thought it through. While the Dark Lord was not necessarily their preferred option, they saw the initial response when they considered the dark path, they had not thought the path through to the end.  Razorclaw growled, though he too recognised the truth of the Pack Leader’s logic.

       “And so here we are,” Harry repeated, the smile evident in his voice. “And you are no doubt wondering why I would wish to ally with the Werewolves.”

       “Somewhat,” Longtooth replied.

       “I am tired of the never ending war of wizards, of them never learning anything. I’m younger than most but I’ve learned enough to see how nothing will ever be fixed with the current system and thus I propose to fix the current system. After the system is fixed, I’m going to need helpers who know why it had to be fixed and that’s where the werewolves come in.”

       “You need enforcers?”

       “No,” Harry shook his head firmly. “Helpers. And that is not a matter of semantics. The system will be fixed and wizards and witches will accept and embrace the new system, not fight against it. But there will be those who have been displaced, who wish for the old norms and so I will need those who have a vested interest in seeing the new norms remain to help me make sure that everything is as it should be.

       “Werewolves are persecuted now, I propose equality between most magical species and that is what you would be helping to protect. Most witches and wizards will accept that, especially the muggleborns, they just have no idea that that is not what they are getting. I’m not muggleborn but like them I don’t even know why werewolves are persecuted. You change for one day a month and during that time, most werewolves voluntarily lock themselves away! By that logic we should persecute witches since they bleed for more days than that and inflict themselves upon wizards in that time!”

       Blackpelt snorted. “Good luck with that,” he murmured.

       “So we won’t be law enforcers?” Longtooth asked, ignoring the analogy.

       “Some of you might,” the way Harry said it showed his surprise. “I won’t be saying no if a Werewolf wishes to become an Auror in the future. Equality, that is what I am aiming for.”

       “You said for most magical species,” Longtooth murmured the earlier qualification.

       “And I mean for most,” Harry agreed. “Chimera’s for example cannot control their natures, nor can Acromantulars. There is little point in even trying to have them contribute.”

       There was silence for a few moments while the Werewolves thought, though that was mostly for politeness. Remus had made up his mind, and Remus was the Pack Leader. The others would have to challenge him if they would not support his decision.

       “So, Pack Leader Lupin, are you still willing to walk the path I offer?” Harry asked.

       “I am, though I think it would be wise if we both revisit what the path you offer contains.”

       “Indeed, sometimes understanding can be lost in translation. So why don’t I begin?”

       “Please.”

       “I would like the werewolves to proclaim their neutrality, while holding allegiance to me,” Harry began, saying the sentence with a depreciating shrug as if what he wanted was the simplest things in the world.

       “That puts us in the bad books with both the Ministry and the Dark Lord.”

       “You are already in the bad books with the Ministry,” Harry murmured, “And with a vampire standing at Dumbledore’s side, that’s not likely to change.”

       “True,” Razorclaw conceded.

       “In return for our ambiguous position, you are prepared to offer wolfsbane potion for those who want it, fiscal help if required and to see that eventually the powers that be acknowledge werewolves as beings with equal rights.”

       “I’m prepared to cast that charm as well if individuals desire it.”

       “I can see you getting changes passed the Ministry,” Longtooth said softly, “Even if they don’t agree, they could be bribed but how are you going to get changes passed the Dark Lord?”

       Harry nodded at the older man. “You may recall from the incident in the Atrium that two beings came to the Dark Lord’s aide. One you see before you,” the young wizard gestured towards Sirius who had taken up a position at his side, standing in place as an obvious guard. “And one who is a more intimate companion. The Lord Voldemort may seem unreasonable but that all depends on how you pose questions to him.”

       Longtooth snickered as he acknowledged the point.

       “You wish our services in one battle?” Talon posed the statement as a question.

       “I do,” Harry agreed. “I intend to move only when I can claim it all, though even in that battle, you may not be openly acknowledging your allegiance to me. I am tired of the wizards fighting, but not all the forces have gathered yet and I will strike only when they are all committed to the battle, when victory can be most effectively achieved. I may give that victory to the Ministry, but more likely to the Lord Voldemort because I admit, I find him far more accommodating to my requests.”

       “Sex won’t do it forever,” Razorclaw snapped.

       “Quite true but I like to save the wand at the heart as the last resort. How I get either the Ministry or the Dark Lord to accept my alterations to the status quo is my concern, not yours.”

       “Many have said that, why should we trust you over others?” Talon asked.

       “Because unlike others, I’m prepared to offer my life as backing for my word.”

       “The Blood Oath,” both Blackpelt and Longtooth murmured.

       “Indeed, the Blood Oath,” Harry confirmed. “All five of you may be holders of the stake, but I would prefer to put in the proviso that you must agree before it can be activated.”

       “Will it only apply to the rules, or to everything else?”

       “Everything.”

       Remus took a deep breath. “Rules for equality for the future but for the moment, in return for our announced neutrality and assistance in that battle, you or your agents will provide assistance for the werewolves to survive in the form of wolfsbane potion, the charm and fiscal help if we require it.”

       “Yes.”

       “I’ve never had wolfsbane, does it work on those who aren’t wizards?” Longtooth asked.

       Harry looked confused for a moment before he frowned. “I’m not a Potion Master, but I would presume so.”

       “It works,” Talon said softly. “A couple of those I run with were muggles and they’ve occasionally managed to get it, though it’s difficult to brew. Is your potion maker up to it?”

       While the smile could not be seen, Remus knew that Harry was smiling at that question as he fished for a piece of parchment in his sleeve. He handed the paper over and Remus saw that it was covered in writing and he began reading. “Those are the qualifications of my Potion Master,” Harry said.

       “Merlin....” Razorclaw whistled as they gathered close to read the parchment. The list was exceedingly long but Remus noticed something else.

       “A lot of these are pending qualifications?” The question was inherent. The Mastery in Potions was not pending but some of the future qualifications and membership associations were. Remus suspected he knew exactly whose qualifications he was looking at.

       “My Potion Master has been in the employ of those who have suppressed his ability. When he took up my offer, he was freed to pursue his true calling. That is why he is lacking in some of the Association Fellowships but those will be made up in time. The wizard who makes the Wolfsbane Potion is a fully qualified and certified Potion Master.”

       “I can see that,” Remus said before he smiled and stepped forward to kneel. The other werewolves followed his lead. “As the Pack Leader of the Isles, I hereby swear the allegiance of the Werewolves to you, the Shadow Lord, through blood, through word, through will, through magic.”

       Harry drew a small dagger and slashed at his palm before he flicked it out splattering a few drops of blood on to each of the Pack Leader’s before he placed his hand on Remus’ forehead to leave a red smear there. “Through blood, through word, through will, through magic, I accept the allegiance of the werewolves and will care for them as if they were my own.”

       There was a moment of silence before Harry stepped back, and Sirius fussed, pulling his wand and healing the cut Harry had made to his palm. “My life depends on it,” Harry added with a little smile.

       Remus took a deep breath before wiping the blood from his forehead with his fingertips as he rose to his feet. The other’s followed his lead.

       “Well now that we have the formal part out of the way,” Harry started again, “I’ve got a question.”

       “What do you wish to know Shadow Lord?” Talon asked.

       “Are there any werewolves good at farming?”

       “Farming?”

       The smirk was evident in Harry’s voice. “Some of the ingredients for Wolfsbane potion are easily farmed, only I don’t have enough workers so figured it would be more cost effective to pay some werewolves to farm them. And it’s efficient and I’m a fan of efficiency under the right circumstances.”

       Blackpelt chuckled. “I’m sure we can find a few,” he assured the Shadow Lord.

       “That’s good,” Harry said as he stepped forward towards Longtooth. “Hold still please,” he addressed the older werewolf before he placed his hand on the man’s forehead. “Merlin, Fenrir really did a number on you,” He murmured as he worked, drawing back his hand to flick it through the motion of several healing charms.

       “Wha..? You’re healing me?”

       “It’s no big thing,” Harry shrugged before stepped back looking up towards the moon. “It’s late, and while there are still many things to work out, I suggest we arrange another time,” Harry said.

       “That would be for the best,” Remus agreed.

       “In three days then?”

       “How about at The Hogs Head?”

       Harry’s brow crinkled for a moment in thought as he remembered it would be Saturday and was a Hogsmead day for Hogwarts students, which meant that the Dark Lord was likely to attack somewhere and Harry would be needed. Three days had not been his best suggestion but he would work it out somehow. “That will be fine,” Harry said as he bowed slightly and backed away, allowing the shadows to wrap him in darkness. Sirius followed and the two of them apparated back to the outskirts of the castle. The area of the Forbidden Forest they had been in was under the wards, but apparition within the wards was possible without any special power or ability.

       “That was interesting,” Sirius said.

       “It went about as I expected,” Harry replied, “though Remus does seem to be doing well.”

       “Of course he’s doing well. I’m a little sorry I couldn’t help him against Fenrir.”

       “He’ll understand.”

       “I know but I still regret it a bit. We talked about it a lot during school, how we could help him kill the werewolf who bit him.”

       There was nothing Harry could say to that so he went with his own feelings. “I miss you.”

       “I know but your guys tell me it won’t be much longer.”

       Harry sighed, looking up at the moon. “It’s already been so long and Dumbledore is parading me around like I’m some sort of pet. If they were truly using me in the war, I wouldn’t mind too much.”

       “Dumbledore wants everyone to know who provided them with their weapon. He won’t really let you fight until it’s in his favour.”

       “I thought I knew what I was agreeing to,” Harry sighed again.

       “Hang in there, kiddo,” Sirius said as he turned away.

       “Sirius, when you are officially back I’ll need to visit Gringotts and probably a few other things.”

       “I know, I’ll arrange it. Your guys have a passion for making sure everything runs smoothly for you.”

       “Except with Ginny.”

       Sirius turned back, looking amused, “What about Ginny?”

       Harry looked at the older wizard with a distinctly unamused glare.

       :She knows the truth and he needs to keep her close,: the Shadow’s supplied helpfully.

       “She’s also the one that Fawkes thinks I’m desperately in love with,” Harry added with a mutter.

       Sirius laughed and despite the growing cold around them Harry could tell by the way he shifted that he wanted to hear everything.

       “If I was who I was meant to be, I would love her,” the black haired wizard said. “But I’m not and I can’t be and I don’t understand how she can be so ignorant.”

       “Is she really like that?”

       “Yes!”

       “No no,” Sirius smiled before he turned serious again. “Is she being controlled?”

       Harry considered it for a moment. “No,” he said finally before he took a deep breath of the chill night air. “If I was the man I was meant to be, if nothing had happened, even if I was the Boy-Who-Lived, raised by you, raised by Remus, raised by anyone except those then I would be the type of wizard Dumbledore thinks I am, the type of wizard who would love Ginny. But I’m not and she’s not being controlled either.”

       “And so you don’t know why the Shadows are insisting you play nice with her?”

       “Exactly. I don’t know why they picked her as the woman I should pretend to love! She knows the truth but there are other ways of dealing with that.”

       “Have you asked them?”

       “They won’t tell me.”

       This time Sirius did laugh. “It’s so nice to know you are in charge,” he muttered as he moved close to the younger wizard. Sirius reached out and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “If they won’t tell you, yet they insist upon it, you have to assume there is a real reason but it might be something that does not happen. If it does happen then you will know and be thankful for the preparation.”

       “I know but....” Harry sighed. “She is difficult.”

       “You know, I’m of two minds to hear you say that.”

       “Oh?”

       “It means you’ve gotten very good at hiding your true self from Fawkes, so much so that you can be mostly yourself but at the same time, I’m sad because....”

       “Because I’m not who I was meant to be.”

       Sirius nodded.

       “I can’t help that.”

       “I know you can’t and I decided a long time ago that since I can’t change the past, you have to seek the best present and future and that’s all you are doing though it’s not the future anyone expects. It will make you happy though so that’s enough. It’s just that you shouldn’t have to go through all of this.”

       Harry smiled somewhat forlornly, “It is what it is. I don’t regret the past but I do regret what it will mean for some.”

       “There are always good people who get hurt. Even if Dumbledore was being sensible, I don’t think there would be any way of saving everyone.”

       “I know and there aren’t that many but I hope a few people are sensible.”

       “That’s their choice Harry. No matter what was happening, that is always their choice.” The canine animagus looked over at his godson, “You don’t really want to conquer, do you?” he asked with sudden insight.

       The smile Harry gave him in the darkness was wry, “No.”

       Sirius chuckled, “He wants it doesn’t he?”

       Harry sighed, “I don’t think he wants to conquer, it’s more he wants change and even if he’d been elected, the system is entrenched. Change, meaningful change is not possible. I told the Werewolves that I would get them equality and I will, just I know as well as you do that it won’t be via the Ministry. That’s why there has to be this war, even though I really don’t want it.”

       “So what happens after?”

       “He wants to rule and I can’t bring myself to deny him that.”

       “From what I’ve seen he won’t be too bad,” Sirius mused.

       “Yes, though some of his followers are very loyal but their ideals are....”

       “Not palatable to the greater wizarding public,” Sirius supplied helpfully. 

       “Yes, and that will be my role, to make sure his changes are not based in blood.”

       “You’ll do that well, Harry, I have no doubt but are you sure you want to be hidden forever?”

       Green eyes blinked. “No.” Harry laughed, looking back at the stars. “I don’t know.”

       “It’s all right,” Sirius soothed moving closer to give his godson a quick embrace. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know everything now. And on some things, it’s better to let the chips fall where they will before you commit to a path. You’ve made the most important decision, you will support him and he knows what will happen after, and what happens after the after, that’s something no one needs to think about yet.”

       Harry moved to hug the other man. “Hurry back,” he whispered.

       “I will,” Sirius smiled at his godchild before he backed away, gently disentangling himself from the younger wizard. “Stay strong and put up with Ginny for the moment. Use the time to hide deep within yourself and plan or to think about what _you_ really want. In the end, if she is necessary then we will need her and willing is always so much better.”

       “I will,” Harry agreed as he reached out to the Hogwart’s gate, placing his hand on it and willing it to open. It creaked slightly but opened and at Sirius’ nod, he slipped through, intent on heading to bed.

       Outside in the cold night air, Sirius smiled before he walked away. Harry was not yet sure of the future, but he was sure of the path and that would be enough.

      


	37. It’s All a Game, Except When it Isn’t

Weapon   
Chapter 37 It’s All a Game, Except When it Isn’t

       Harry smiled at the young witch beside him. It was almost sad that Ginny didn’t see, couldn’t see that it was only a shadow. The smile represented an emotion he didn’t feel for her and if she had of truly loved him she would have walked away. And in time she would have found him to be one of the best friends she would ever have.

       As Sirius had suggested the other night he had locked his true self deep in his mind and was currently contemplating what he wanted, what he truly wanted. He was working through the childish answer of wanting his Dark Lord. That went without saying. And he knew what Voldemort wanted, but what did he want? That was a far more complicated question.

       He didn’t really want to fight but he knew that was necessary. The problem was that he couldn’t really answer the question of what he wanted so he tried to think about what was wrong with the world. Voldemort would be making changes and Harry had naively said that his job would be to make those changes not based in blood but the mechanism of being able to make those changes would be bloody. There was no real choice about that blood but about what came after and the best Harry could think of was that he wanted to change what was wrong with the wizarding world.

       To him what was wrong was pretty simple but Harry didn’t know how easy it would be to fix it. It was possible just changing the ruler would be enough, especially as Harry would be there to moderate Voldemort’s policies but as Sirius had slyly suggested, Harry didn’t really want to remain in the shadows forever. His position as the Dark Lord’s mate would become clear at the end of the year, he couldn’t remain in shadow when that happened. He may not wish to rule but he would have to take his place beside his beloved.

       :Ruling doesn’t actually mean much you know,: the Shadow’s whispered deep in his mind.

       :Doesn’t it?:

       :Ruling is just getting what you want, and for you Master, that’s a given,: they quipped.

       Harry chuckled. :So you want me to rule?:

       :More to provide guidance,: they amended. :We have noticed that human society, whether muggle or wizard, are based heavily on their leaders. Where the leaders are good, fair and reasonable, the society tends to follow that norm, but where the leaders are despotic, psychotic and unbalanced then society degrades. You won’t need to make the day to day decisions, that’s what others are for, but you will need to be there to provide guidance on what the standards are. And that you can do, Master, and you will do it very well.:

       :I seem to recall a vision a while back, where I was sitting on the throne and the Dark Lord stood beside me.:

       :We remember something similar.:

       :Did you plan that?:

       :No. That was a genuine vision of what may have come to pass at the time. If you were to have a vision now, we imagine it would be different.:

       :Then I suppose I better think about what policies I want.:

       :Perhaps you should.:

       :Though.... there is one thing I did think about.:

       :Hmm?:

       :I realise it’s late but could you get someone for me?:

       :Get someone?:

       :Yes, get someone, as in bring them here as a prisoner.:

       :Who?:

       Harry felt the Shadow’s smile. He could play nice politics but they were pleased he could be ruthless when called for.... or when he wanted. :Wilbur O'Haresh,: Harry said the name. :I think the werewolves might like him.:

       :We’ll have him,: the Shadow’s said dubiously, obviously not knowing who the wizard was.

       :Trust me, they will love him.: Harry added with an inward chuckle. It was nice to know that sometimes he could get the better of them.

       :If you say so,: the Shadow’s said accepting the small pulse of energy Harry feed to them.

       :Thank you,: Harry said with a smile as he settled within himself. While he didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, he felt much lighter with at least a few things worked out so that now he could focus on more important things, like petting Xaos since the huge basilisk was curled around his mental self as a living cocoon.

       Or as his false self took Ginny around Hogsmead with the others, he could begin working on his Mastery papers. He was nowhere near ready to submit a final work but along the way he had to present progress papers and some were nearly due.

       :Do both.:

       :Xaos is asleep.:

       -Not that much asleep.-

       Harry laughed, reaching out one hand to run it over his basilisk’s soft, almost downy crest. –Enjoy the moment, Master,- Xaos advised him, -because the Phoenix is not gone yet and I believe the King will be making moves to keep to the one year deadline.-

       -I will,- Harry promised as he lay back, resting on Xaos. –I will.-

===

       For early winter, it was a lovely day. It was overcast but the steel grey clouds were holding back their rain which on a day like today would fall as piercing sleet. But the air didn’t smell like rain or snow so most of the Hogwart’s students, those who could were laughing and smiling as they walked down the well-travelled path to the township of Hogsmead. They knew there was a war and a few looked grim but for most, the only concession to the continued hostilities was to make sure they did not walk alone. Some of the Prefects watched as did the Teachers, their nerves carefully concealed. The Dark Lord had already shown that he would attack defenceless targets and since for the last week or so he had been unusually quiet, most felt that an attack was just a matter of time. Hogsmead, while protected, was not as well guarded as Hogwarts.

       In the interests of safety Harry walked with Ginny and the rest of their friends. He’d pulled the red haired witch aside for a moment earlier and apologised that he couldn’t take her alone because of the situation and the look of absolute joy she had given him was painfully bright. Everything seemed to be going well on the walk down but Harry was aware of eyes on him. It wasn’t a vampire. Or if it was, someone else was watching.

       :Want to tell me who is watching?:

       There was one thing his fake self could do, and that was interact with the Shadows for petty little things that they were expected to do for him.

       :The better question might be who is not watching,: the Shadow’s replied.

       :Who is watching then?: Harry asked looking around as they approached the outskirts of Hogsmead. Hermione took charge of their group, asking everyone where they wanted to go and organising the schedule so that they could visit just about everywhere together. She had taken the safety spiel to heart, though Harry couldn’t bring himself to blame her. She was doing her best. They would end up at The Three Broomsticks later in the day for butter beer which suited him. He’d slip away after to The Hogs Head.

       :Well, first off we do have a vampire!: The Shadow’s began the list, making the names sound almost like the announcement for some muggle television game show. :Followed closely by one Draco Malfoy! And rather surprisingly your friend, Hermione has been watching you all day, and last but not least, Fawkes, the immortal Phoenix is keeping close tabs on you.:

       Suddenly Harry was very glad that his true self was submerged so deeply today. While an echo of frustration could be covered as many things – frustration at the Dark Lord, at his studies, at the necessity of all this caution – frustration at having to spend time with Ginny was one thing that would raise alarms. It was slightly surprising though. With the Phoenix spying within him, he would have thought he could feel it, or had the feeling of being watched externally over ridden the phoenix?

       :You are not meant to be sensitive to him,: the Shadow’s reminded him and Harry nodded. It didn’t matter. It just meant he had to be on good behaviour, and he’d been created to be good behaviour.

       “All right!” Hermione was saying. :We’ll go to Honeyduke’s first, then Zonko’s. I need to stop by Scrivenshaft’s and Luna said she needed to go to Dervish and Banges. After that we can head to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer. No one needs to go anywhere else?”

       “I need to go to the Post Office,” Neville said, “but it’s on the way to the Three Broomsticks so there’s no rush.”

       The bushy haired witch nodded and everyone gave her a short nod in return. “Okay!” Hermione said, turning down the cobbled street. “Let’s go!”

       “Yes Ma’am!” Harry and Ron snapped out, the two of them smiling at each other when Hermione spun back at them, with a half outraged expression.

       The group laughed and began walking, Ron, quickly leading the way as he no doubt wanted to get some sweets from Honeydukes.

       “My brother is such a glutton!” Ginny said. “You’d think by now he wouldn’t just rush to see Honeydukes or Zonko’s since he’s seen them before but no...”

       Hermione smiled at her, using the opportunity to flick her eyes carefully over Harry. “I think it’s rather sweet,” she said. “Besides, since Christmas is coming up, he probably wants to get some presents.”

       Ginny’s blue eyes opened a little at that and she flushed. She still had no idea what to get Harry and when she glanced over at him, he didn’t seem at all fazed. Had he somehow already done his shopping? Somehow Harry read her gaze and he grinned, the expression making him look carefree. “I got your present already,” he murmured and Ginny felt the flush turn into a full blush.

       Harry chuckled at her, slinging his arm over her shoulders to draw her close and Ginny went even redder. “You are so cute,” he whispered and half expected to hear Draco’s stringent voice making some objection but the blond was nowhere in sight.

       The flash of a camera was much worse.

       They both barely had the chance to look around and only caught the outline of someone running down between two buildings disappearing before either witch or wizard could react.

       “Darn it!” Harry swore.

       “Harry,” Ginny’s voice was concerned.

       The green eyed wizard forced himself to take a deep breath. “It’s not you, Ginny,” he said softly. “Just with the current situation, someone taking a photo and running is not likely to have the best outcome.”

       “What do you mean?”

       He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was she really that naïve? “You know the Dark Lord wants me?” The question carried meaning on so many levels and the red haired witch nodded.

       “Do you think he will like it if I openly flaunt another?”

       It took a moment for the meaning to sink in and Ginny gasped, her blue eyes going wide as she frantically looked around.

       Harry sighed. “It’s all right, Gin,” he whispered, leaning in close to her. “I’m not ashamed, I just wanted to keep it a secret a while longer because that was the safest way.”

       “We could fight?” She offered in a tiny voice.

       “No,” Harry said, thankful that his real self was not paying attention.  His real self may only have needed the Dark Lord, but he needed Ginny. “It’s all right,” he said again, linking one arm through Ginny’s ignoring her startled look. “At least this way we don’t have to hide anymore.”

       The way she smiled up at him made his heart flutter and Harry revelled in the feel of what could have been.

===

       The day had gone reasonably well, all things considered. They had managed to visit most of the shops that their group needed and over all the feeling in Hogsmead was almost festive. Harry watched as Ginny spoke with one of her friends while they waited outside the Post Office for Neville to finish inside. She was happy. She was so happy she appeared to be glowing and where such misplaced happiness usually made him feel sorry, for Ginny he felt nothing. He did not care that she would hurt herself.

       Harry sighed and looked up at the sky. The clouds were still in evidence though they were darkening as dusk began to fall. It was a little difficult to determine exactly what time it was without seeing the sun but he figured it was late afternoon. He’d need to see about breaking off from the others so that he could meet the Werewolves in a few hours.

       Ginny’s continued talking oblivious to his distraction.  He didn’t know why he felt such apathy towards her feelings.  With the head of the DMLE Amelia Bones he felt a small amount of genuine distress towards her plight.  He felt sympathy for that witch and it was a sympathy that he did not feel for Ginny.  Perhaps it was because Madam Bones had no way of knowing the truth while Ginny should have known it all too well.  Harry sighed again and extended his senses. 

       Around him he could feel the town of Hogsmead bustling with the presence of the students of Hogwart’s.  It appeared that most were heading towards the Three Broomsticks having concluded their shopping.  It was certainly quieter than it had been earlier.  Around the town though he could feel the forest and in the distance the solid would presence of the castle of Hogwarts.  Green eyes blinked and Harry sharpened his focus seeking to define individual presences before he hissed, narrowing his concentration on the Forbidden Forest.

       It _should_ have been teeming with life. While it wasn’t the most hospitable place for wizards, he should have been able to sense the myriad of wildlife, both magical and otherwise that made their homes there, even at the edges. But he could feel nothing. The edge of the forest seemed cold and dark but he could sense life deep within it, too deep within it to be natural. Something had driven the forest’s inhabitants into its depths.

       His shark of alarm alerted Fawkes and Harry felt the phoenix shift in his mind. Deliberately he turned towards one of his shadows who had been trailing unobtrusively the entire day. :Go find out what is in the forest,: he instructed. He’d shown Sturges what the Shadows could do, and no doubt there was a complete report on Dumbledore’s desk, so ordering his servants to spy was something Fawkes would be happy to see him do.

       After a moment the shadow returned and whispered into his mind. :There are Dementors there.:

       :Fawkes!: Harry immediately called for the fire bird and he felt the phoenix respond.

       :Are they attacking?: the question was intent.

       Harry looked to the shadow who had reported in. Somehow he could see the gesture it made in denial while around him his friends continued to chat amicably, completely unaware of the potential danger. :They are probably gathering for an attack,: Harry reported.

       :Then we have a little bit of time,: Fawkes said. :I’ll get the Professors to start getting the students to come back to the Castle,: the phoenix continued. :Can you get a count on how many there are?:

       :Just a minute,: Harry replied and flicked his eyes at the shadow. It disappeared again, taking a bit longer before it reappeared, stretching smoothly over the Post Office.

       :There’s about fifty Dementors,: the shadow reported.

       :Fifty!: Fawkes was stunned. There weren’t that many Dementors. No one was sure exactly how many there were but fifty was a fair proportion of their colony.

       “Students!” The call came via someone’s sonorous enhanced voice. “Please start making your way back to Hogwarts!”

       There were a few gasps but for the most part the students began moving back towards the castle with only some minor grumbling.

       :Harry, get your friends to start up and wait somewhere safe. The Order is on its way,: Fawkes said.

       Deep inside Harry snorted. The Order was on its way.... Oh joy! He felt so much safer already. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned towards Ginny and the other girl she had been talking to. Neville, Luna and Ron were emerging from the Post Office and Hermione was coming out of the Quill shop. They turned to him and he could see the expectation in their faces.

       “Go back to Hogwarts,” Harry ordered with a small smile to soften the command.

       “What’s wrong Harry?” Ginny asked.

       “There’s just something in the Forest,” he said. “I’ll tell you later, for now you all really do need to head back to Hogwarts.”

       “What about you?” the red haired witch objected and Harry was given yet another reminder of why he could not love Ginny. He should have felt touched that she was concerned, instead he felt annoyed that she was not taking the path she had been instructed to. She was selfish and it was a selfishness which would hurt. The feelings bubbled around him, deep in his mind but on the surface all he felt, and all Fawkes felt was a tenderness towards the young witch.

       “I’ll be okay,” Harry said with another smile. “Fawkes wants me to stay here.” As the others turned around, he placed his hands on Ginny’s shoulders and turned her to face him so that his green eyes could look deeply into her blue. “Go,” he whispered to her. “This is what I was training to do and what I have to do,” he added trying to smile gently.

       It seemed to work and Harry was a little started when Ginny reached out to embrace him before she pulled back, placing one kiss on his nose and turning away. “Be safe,” he heard her whisper with a little catch in her voice.

       “I will,” Harry said, feeling relieved as she left. While Ginny didn’t see reality, when it was explained she seemed accepting so perhaps there was something he could work with there. It was the act of explaining that left him exasperated.

       As his friends disappeared, Harry looked around. If it came to a battle with the Dementors he wanted somewhere that was a bit more defensible. And the street just wasn’t going to be enough. They’d run through some simulations over the summer but he wasn’t sure there was any place suitable to fight Dementors in Hogsmead. Well.... there really wasn’t any place that was suitable to fight Dementors anywhere. Their abilities made them far too dangerous to take on for most Witches and Wizards, especially in the numbers that the Shadow had reported back were present. One to one, a witch or Wizard could fight, even if there was a small group they could hold out, but against that many with their combined power, that was something of a futile task unless there was a correspondingly large group of fighters. And at the moment, the Order was not yet here.

       Harry could feel them approaching. There was a large group of witches and wizards pelting down from the castle and they would be here soon but he wondered what the Dementors were thinking. Why hadn’t they attacked, and why hadn’t they left when the call for the students to retreat had been given? What were they waiting for?

       :Go and spy more on the Dementors,: Harry instructed the shadows and was happy when they flicked away while others came closer to him, stretching around him. :Find out what they are up to,: he added, knowing that the shadows who had already left would hear his intention. He moved himself, walking through Hogsmead as the store owners and villagers closed up their shops and barricaded their doors. There had been no formal notification but the witches and wizards who lived in Hogsmead were not stupid, they knew what the call to the students of Hogswart meant.

       And this was perhaps what was wrong with the Magical world. They did not care, and would not move to protect anything than what they understood, what they held dear. They needed the shakeup that Voldemort wished. They needed to change. He came to the centre of the township and looked around. It was completely quiet and Harry wasn’t sure what he should do. The members of the Order of the Phoenix were nearly there but the Dementors were still hanging around at the edge of the Forest. They didn’t appear to be interested in coming closer and Harry frowned, wondering what they could be up to.

       “Where are they?” one of the members of the Order gasped as they ran up to Harry. Like most wizards he needed to be fitter. Very few wizards considered physical conditioning to be important and it showed.

       “They are still in the forest,” Harry replied as his servants reported to him that the Dementors hadn’t moved.

       A couple of the Order members grinned, “That makes this easy then.” They seemed inordinately happy and Harry wasn’t sure why until another one gave the command. “Patronus’ now!” And then he realised what they thought would happen. They thought they could cast their patronus’ here and drive off the Dementors, all without getting close. Inwardly Harry shook his head at the sheer naivety of the wizards. Centuries had dulled their ability to think but he raised his wand with the others and cast his Patronus with them, watching as it ran off into the distance towards the Dementors.

       After a few minutes there came a high pitched squeal and in the distance they saw the flying forms of Dementors rise into the air, some being pursued by glowing white Patronus’ and others just scattering. There was a cheer from the gathered members of the Order and Harry suppressed his sigh. They knew so little and it almost hurt to be associated with them.

       “Good work everyone, and good work Harry for detecting them,” one of the older members of the Order said and Harry ducked his head almost shily, just as some Auror’s appeared with soft pops.

       “Where are the Dementors?”

       Harry snapped to attention. He was an Apprentice Auror so in this situation his loyalty was a bit skewed. “They were in the Forbidden Forest, Sir!” he reported gesturing with one hand towards the forest, where a few Dementors could be seen streaming away.

       “Patronus’!” the Auror commanded and his team replied sending their glowing Patronus’ into the forest to follow the Order’s.

       :Most of the Dementors have gone deeper into the forest,: one of the Shadow’s said to Harry and he suppressed a sigh, making a little bit of light for them to eat. He could tell from their tone that they had something more to say but they wouldn’t speak while the Phoenix was paying such close attention.

       “Harry could you please confirm that the Dementors have left?” the Auror commander asked him and Harry was slightly surprised but pleased to see that someone at least remembered what his servants abilities were and with some show he turned and ordered the Shadows to go look at where the Dementors were.

       After a few moments they came back and reported making sure that the gathered Aurors and Order could hear them. “The Dementors have gone deeper into the Forest but they appear to be leaving.”

       “Why were they here?”

       “We don’t know,” the Shadows answered the Aurors question easily without prompting from Harry. Some of the older Aurors nodded and Harry was thankful for their presence. They wouldn’t expect the Shadows to be able to do everything and speculating on why the Dementors were there was definitely beyond the capabilities they were meant to have. Of course his Servants by now _would_ know what the Dementors had been up to but that was not something that the rest of the world needed to know.

       “Well,” said the leading Auror, “I don’t think anyone wants to pursue the Dementor’s through the Forest,” he added as his Patronus reported back and disappated. “Good catch, Apprentice,” he complimented the young wizard before turning to talk to some of the Order.

       That left Harry at a bit of a loss but he felt relieved when Fawkes’ attention was diverted. :Good work,: he complimented the Shadows but refrained from asking what they had found from the Dementors. That would have to wait until Fawkes’ attention was completely off him.

       For a moment Harry wondered what he should do. He hadn’t been dismissed by either the Aurors or the Order and he was just left standing around. The thought made him smile. They probably didn’t mean it but in this little way they were treating him like everyone else. There were more than a few who were just watching as the respective squad leaders spoke though it was odd to see Professor MacGonagall in that role. She did seem to take to it well though.

       Eventually the two finished discussion and after one long look around the Auror Leader snapped out a command and the Ministry Officials vanished, leaving Harry with the Order. Before he was packed back up to the Castle like the rest of the _children_ Harry knew he needed to act so he smiled as his Head of House and moved forward.

       “Professor, before I head back to the castle, might I have some time to calm down?” He asked in his most reasonable voice. It was hardly his best excuse but perhaps simple would be workable here.

       The older witch looked startled for an instant before she looked at him, really looked at him. Over the summer with their one to one classes she had realised how little she really knew about Harry and they had worked on that. Minerva couldn’t say she could read him like a book but she knew now that when he asked for things, he _needed_ them because it was not in his nature to ask authority for anything. Curse his upbringing!

       “Be back by curfew please,” the feline animagus said softly after a long pause in which Harry felt Fawkes take a brief look around his mind before the phoenix disappeared. MacGoganall was rewarded when Harry smiled at her. It made the decision so much easier. “I will let your friends know you will be back later.”

       Harry’s smile brightened and he nodded his thanks before he slipped away, going down one of the alley ways to put some distance between the Order and himself. They would be leaving shortly but he had some preparations to make before he met the Werewolves.

===

Lucius blinked pale eyes in the darkness. For the moment, he was remarkably lucid but then every now and then the Dark Lord liked to leave him alone. It made him wonder when the pain would be back and what torture would be inflicted upon him. He tried to keep those thoughts from his mind as the slowly brought his vision into focus.

       There were chains on his arms and legs and around his throat. The blond had long ago gotten used to the pressure on his shoulders so didn’t even bother twitching to try to settle into a more comfortable position. There wasn’t any other position that was comfortable. The drip of water came to him constantly as did the soft moans and occasional screams of the others in the dungeon. He’d seen these dungeons before, and even if he was at full health, with his wand Lucius didn’t fancy his chances of escape… with the Dementors a cold, grasping presence in his mind and in the levels, he knew escape was not an option.

       He had only one means of escape, and the Dark Lord was meticulous in blocking that.

       So why was his still alive? That question had been weighing on him for a few days. The Dark Lord would say it was because he had yet to scream his name, but Lucius was not so naïve. His former Lord was never that simple. The last of his followers had been murdered the day after Halloween and Lucius had heard rumours that Severus Snape had been declared a traitor but had been given to some other force the Dark Lord was allied wi….

       A gasp escaped Lucius’ mouth and he suppressed a grimace as the involuntary movement caused all the little cuts and abrasions on him to strain, sending a pulse of pain through him.

       No matter what his former Lord claimed, he was sensible, he knew that the only good enemy was a dead enemy, so despite pretence otherwise, he was not the one keeping Lucius alive. It had to be that group he was allied with.  But what did they want?

       What were they?

       The vampire had told him ‘If the Shadows know life, you have lost’ but had never explained what the Shadows were and Lucius had taken the warning to be…. Well he wasn’t really sure what he had taken the warning to mean. He definitely hadn’t expected it to be what it was. If anything he’d thought it was some generic warning about daylight since he’d attacked at night when there were no shadows…. But the elder Vampire had meant something much more literal, he had meant some power that only he had known about…. Only he and the Dark Lord.

       What were they?

       Lucius frowned as he focused his mind, suddenly thankful for the rest periods he was allowed. He was still resting, and when his former Lord returned to pick up torture again, it would feel that much worse because his nerves had gotten a taste of normalcy but it was allowing him to think.

       The Shadows were obviously much more than an esoteric concept. They had agents and those agents were very powerful if the ability of the one he had seen was any indication. Killing vampires that easily was not something to take lightly and it made sense that Xeoaph would know about anything that could kill him or his children that easily. But the Shadows couldn’t be just agents or wizards with extra training. Vampires would not fear something like that because sooner or later, if the Shadows were just wizards they would have made a mistake and the vampires would have brought them down. No, they had to be something else….

       But what could they possibly be?

       He’d seen them around his former Lord, all black and inky and while they looked like shadows, Lucius was reluctant to call them that. Shadows were meant to be insubstantial… they were meant to be something you produced when you stepped into the light. They were something you never thought about, or something some used to amuse children, something that was there because you cast the shadow.

       Grey eyes blinked. They were meant to be something you controlled, so why…. How did they have the power to take control?

       His thoughts were interrupted by a chuckle and Lucius half expected one of the inky black things to be hovering near the door, but the light was clear. For some reason the Shadows had seemed reluctant to speak to him.

       :Oh, we aren’t reluctant. There’s just no point.:

       Lucius jerked his head upwards and was immediately sorry when the movement caused it to start pounding. Dehydration was taking its toll and the headache was an almost constant companion.

       :You see, you can’t even hold a conversation.:

       Slowly, the blond lowered his head, forcing his breathing to be deep and even as he waited for the pain to subside. If he was still and gentle enough it went away for a few moments, or at least went away enough for him to think. “What are you?” the elder Malfoy hissed eventually.

       :We are Shadow,: came the unhelpful reply.

       “What are you really?” He asked again.

       :We are really Shadow.:

       “Don’t play with me!” Lucius didn’t care about the pain as he raised grey eyes to glare at them… or at least to glare at what he thought was them.

       :We play everything, Lucius,: the Shadow voice became serious though the words were almost that of a child. :We play everything for the glory of our Master.:

       “The Dark Lord?”

       The Shadows laughed, and Malfoy was surprised to hear genuine amusement in their tone. :The Lord Voldemort is not our Master. We require someone a bit more pure. You saw him, you know him, you just don’t believe it.:

       “Because it’s not possible.”

       :Of course it’s possible.:

       “How?”

       :Now that is a decent question.: The blond wizard wasn’t sure how he should take that praise. He wasn’t sure it was praise though it sounded like it.

       “How?” He repeated the question.

       :What he told you at the time is true Lucius. We are here because our Master supports the Dark Lord. You were there Malfoy, you know what happened, you know the Dark Lord did… but perhaps you don’t understand what the Light did?: the last was said speculatively, as if it could answer every question.

       “What did the Light do?” Lucius forced himself to ask and while his mind still rebelled at the concept, at the memory of what he had seen, Harry Potter sitting in the Dark Lord’s throne, defending the evil wizard… Kissing the man… That should not have been possible.

       :The Light? The Light did nothing Lucius,: the Shadows replied after a moment of silence. :They didn’t even watch. They acted only when forced to. They did not defend and yet still they make demands.:

       Malfoy didn’t understand all of that but he understood enough. He’d been there at the trial, he knew what had happened and if no changes had been made he knew what would have continued… He knew what his son… Oh Merlin! _Draco!_

       :It’s too late for him,: the voice was colder than a Dementor’s touch.

       “No! He’s just a boy!”

       :Old enough.:

       “He can’t possibly be considered old enough!” Lucius said with force.

       The Shadows went silent for a moment and the blond sensed the change in them before they spoke again. He couldn’t see any difference in the darkness of his cell but somehow the temperature dropped and their tone took on an air of true evil. :Do you truly know what your son did?: The question was almost beneath the captive wizard’s hearing but somehow Lucius knew that he would have always heard that voice.

       “He said something about rape and Avada Kedrava,” the blond said. “But Draco would not touch anyone like that…”

       The answer brought him a short hiss of unamused laughter. :You don’t know your son very well, do you?: the tone was still cold.

       Lucius closed his eyes. He had dismissed what the Dark Lord had told him but with the Shadows it was harder to deny their words. He thought he had taught his son to be better than that. Surely the Scion of Malfoy would not have sullied his hands such? “He wouldn’t have… It was ingrained upon him never to…” the chained wizard wasn’t sure how to continue.

       :Ah!: The cold didn’t disappear from the Shadow voice but a note of understanding entered it. It was amazing how many feelings they could portray just with their voice but Lucius rather sillily thought that they had had practice over the years with not having a face. They were amazingly expressive. :You misunderstand Lucius,: they said softly. :Your son did not touch our Master. He did something worse, though from your point of view, it is in keeping with his upbringing. He arranged for others to do his dirty work. In that, he inherited the Malfoy will very well. Unlike you, he does not do his own dirty work. But now, we thought we would give you a choice.:

       “A choice?” the elder Malfoy did not understand. What could their possibly be for him to choose? No one in this stronghold would give him a choice about anything, not without risking their Lord’s wrath. He could not die, he could not do anything, yet these insubstantial Shadows thought they could give him a choice?

       :So self-centred,: they muttered. :It’s not a choice for yourself, Lucius, rather for your son.:

       “What choice?”

       :In good time your wife and son will stand before the Dark Lord in chains. Your wife’s fate has already been decided for she would stand beside you until the end. The Dark Lord has her but your son belongs to _us._ And since he arranged for others to violate our Master, we thought we would give you the choice. What exactly would you like to violate his pretty little arse first?:

       Their sudden crass question caught Lucius by surprise and he almost didn’t understand at first.  He swallowed hard. “He wouldn’t want that,” the blond said, referring to the Shadow’s proclaimed master. He had his doubts about Harry Potter being their master but if they said he was, then perhaps there were expectations he could lay upon them.

       :Who?:

       “Your master. He wouldn’t want that.”

       :He wouldn’t want what?:

       “Your master was raped many times in his childhood,” Lucius explained patiently, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Not only would that antagonise the Shadows, it would set off his aching head. “He wouldn’t want another to go through what he did.”

       The darkness chuckled and the blond suddenly felt less sure of himself. :A nice try Lucius and you are somewhat correct. Our master would not want anyone to have to go through what he did, not even his worst enemy. In fact, he only recently killed those responsible… but here’s the thing… _We_ would want his worst enemy to go through it.:

       “But he won’t let you.”

       :Oh Lucius! You wizards are so amusing. Won’t let? How can he forbid what he does not know about? Your son will be in chains in the Dark Lord’s stronghold and our Master will be elsewhere. The Lord Voldemort has already given Draco to us, so we ask again, what would you like to penetrate his pretty arse first?:

       “You can’t!”

       :Of course we can. There are plenty of Voldemort’s followers who like their sport young and unwilling. The more fight Draco puts up, the more they will like it, though we may have to persuade them that he’s young enough.:

       “No! Your master won’t… He would… He _will_ forbid you from having anyone raped. Those who enjoy that particular past time will soon be finding it against the Dark Lord’s wishes. As much as you want to threaten that, you can’t.”

       :We can do pretty much what we want Lucius, but we will play along with you for now. If our master forbids us from having anyone touch the waste you spawned, there are still so many things for you to choose from. Or are you saying you want his first time to be with someone?

       :Think about it Lucius. We’ll want an answer when we decide to talk with you again.:

       The captive wizard had looked to the ground for an instant but in that moment the feeling in his cell changed. It was still cold, there were too many Dementors in the Dark Lord’s stronghold for it not to be cold but the cell seemed lighter and the elder Malfoy realised that between one word and the next the Shadows had vanished. He let out a long breath and firmly put thoughts of Draco being captured from his mind. That was what they wanted. They wanted him to think Narcissa would fail. Lucius had no idea what she was doing, but he knew, she would not fail. He was realistic, his surviving was… unlikely but their son would live on.

       Lucius closed his eyes as he realised that none of his questions about the Shadows had been answered. He still didn’t know what they were and despite their seeming confidence, he was well aware how much that sometimes hid the truth. He would not take their confidence as anything more than bravado.

       He would hold out for as long as he could and he would not give in to the doubts they wanted him to have, just as he would not say the name his former Lord wanted him to scream.

===

       Neville looked with some distaste at his Potions Homework. Snape had been absent for weeks but they were all still dutifully filling out the expected essays and inches of parchment. As Hermione had said, even if the Potion Master never returned, they still needed to know the course work. But right at the moment he couldn’t concentrate on it. Christmas was coming and while he had most of his presents already bought, there was something that he hadn’t arranged yet.

       He looked around. Harry was scratching some notes into a parchment though he didn’t appear to be paying too much attention to it. Ron was deep into some essay and his tongue was sticking out just a little bit with his concentration. Hermione seemed to be helping Ginny and Luna with some finer points on the notes they were working on. Everyone seemed to be being industrious but Neville could tell that they were like him. They didn’t really want to be studying at the moment.

       “Guys.”

       “Hmm,” Harry looked up with a soft smile.

       “What are you all doing for Christmas?”

       Ron and Ginny looked at each other. While they usually went home, they had both spoken with their parents and the family had agreed that it would be best if they stayed where Harry was. Hermione smiled at Neville and Luna just looked at him oddly. Harry shrugged. “I’ll be here,” he said, “Unless the Dark Lord decides to attack somewhere.”

       “Well then,” Neville gulped, as he gathered himself, “On Christmas Day, would you all like to come to my house? If it’s just for the day, it should be secure enough.”

       Harry smiled. “That would be great, Neville.”

       His decision pretty much decided the rest of them and pretty soon Neville was surrounded by smiles as the little group agreed to meet at Longbottom Manor for Christmas Afternoon… if the appropriate clearances could be arranged. They’d leave their presents until then as well, so that they could open them together.

       “Okay! Now that that is decided, Harry, I have a far more important question,” Neville joked to hide his sudden embarrassment. He had hoped that they would come, just that he never thought it would be that easy.

       “What is it?” The green eyed wizard asked gently.

       Neville grinned. “How’s the Quidditch team coming?”

       Harry chuckled from deep in his throat. “They are going well.”

       “We’d be going better if you quit the early morning training,” Ron mockingly complained.

       “So you are all fighting fit for the match with Slytherin?”

       It was Ginny who laughed this time. “They won’t know what hit them.”

       Harry nodded. “Draco’s not the Captain but he’s still their Seeker.”

       “Only ‘cos they can’t find anyone to replace him.”

       “He’s still their Seeker,” Harry reiterated, “And while he’s not up to my level, if he actually concentrates he’s not that bad.”

       “What?” After the startled exclamation there was silence.

       “Hmm?” Harry questioned, raising one eyebrow. He knew what his friends thought was wrong but this was also fun.

       :Can you talk to us too now?:

       :Why now?:

       :Fawkes has decided he doesn’t need to listen to teenage chit chat.:

       :What is it?:

       “Harry, how could you!?” Ron asked, his voice shocked.

       :It’s the Dementors. They left a message when you went to Hogsmead.:

       “How could I what?” :What do they have to say?:

       “How could you even imply that Malfoy has talent?”

       :They can do what you want but they need more power.:

       :Power?: “It’s pretty easy Ron,” Harry said with a wry smile. “When Draco is not trying to be a prat, he has some skill. Think of it like this…. Hmm… how to put this?”

       :Power. The bodies are too weak by themselves. They will need an external power source to complete the transformation.:

       :Ah… I’ll see what I can do. Tell the Dementors to go as far as they can anyway.:

       :We will,: the Shadows said, caressing their master.

       “How to put what?”

       Harry sighed. “Think about it like Charms class or something like that. When you actually apply yourself, you get results, but if you don’t pay attention and just go through the motions, you might get a result, but the spell will probably fail. Draco’s like that for Quidditch. If he gives up his pretences, then he’s got some skill.”

       “Pretences?” Predictably enough Ron questioned what that was, while most of the others nodded knowingly. They were surprised that Harry had admitted that Draco may have some ability but they weren’t incapacitated by their shock. Their green eyed friend’s explanation made sense… though it was somewhat galling to have to admit that the ferret had skill in anything beyond toadying.

       :Did you apologise to Voldemort for me?:

       :Of course not. If we did, we’d owe him a favour. We explained, but you will have to apologise.:

       :Ta,: Harry replied, his mind voice thick with sarcasm.

       “Pretense,” Hermione began the explanation. “It’s when he takes on those airs.”

       “Oh please! He doesn’t take on those airs, he was born with them!” Ron objected.

       “He does Ron… at least some of the time,” Hermione added the last with a small smile.

       :Oh don’t worry,: the Shadow’s assured their master, :we are sure you can make it up to him.:

       :Is that all?:

       :For the moment.:

       “Don’t fight,” Harry said before his two oldest friends began bicker in earnest. “No matter how skilled Draco is, I’m better.” He let his features settle into a cocky little grin as he took one of Ginny’s hands in his own. It was a sentimental gesture but he needed it. Or rather, those watching needed it. Mentally Harry shook his head, driving that thought away. It was one of those truths he had to be economical about.

       “But what if the Dark Lord attacks?” Ginny asked in a small voice.

       “Then you will just have to school Draco for me,” Harry said, turning towards the red haired witch and giving her a soft smile.

       The rest of their friends grinned, though Luna did look somewhat subdued.

       “If Voldemort does attack,” Harry added, ignoring the way the room flinched at his use of the name, “he won’t know what hit him. I _want_ to play that game and I will not appreciate being called into some battle squad.”

       Neville chuckled. “I can see there is nothing to worry about with Quidditch,” he said before yawning hugely. “Oh excuse me!” the brown haired wizard added. “I think I’ll head to bed,” Neville said as he began collecting his books.

       “Good idea,” Harry agreed. “A slightly early night will be the best for us I think.” Even Hermione agreed. “Luna, would you like me to walk you back to the Ravenclaw Common Room?” Curfew was in effect for most students, but Harry had the run of the castle and while he didn’t always use his privileges, sometimes they came in handy.

       “That would be nice, Harry,” the blonde said gently.

       Harry brought Ginny’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “Sleep, Ginny, you need it,” he whispered to her and he allowed the feeling of warmth her smile awoke within him to flush through him. With one of the wizarding magazines having published that photo of him and Ginny in Hogsmead, it had made his life both easier and harder. Easier because he was now able to give public displays of affection to Ginny, which reinforced his charade but far, far harder, because he resented every moment he had to spend. And the red haired witch knew it! She knew who he loved, she knew he did not love her, not that way, but she was not willing to give him up. The bond he had severed still pulsed within him, just the way she had wanted it but even though Harry knew he’d probably have an opportunity to use it, to use her life force, so that he could survive, he was reluctant to. She had not known what she was getting into, and really Ginny had only been trying to help but he also felt, that if he used her life force, somehow he would be owing her.., her shade at least and he did not like the feeling of owing anyone anything. It was a complex thing, layered feelings that interacted with each other than he was torn between exasperation and frustration. He just didn’t know what to do with her. So for now, he went with the charade. At least until he could work out what could be done.

       “Be careful,” Ginny whispered.

       “I will,” he smiled as he led Luna out of the portrait. The others were packing up and slowly heading upstairs and he gave them a small wave good bye.

       “You don’t have to, you know.”

       “Don’t have to what?”

       “Walk me back to the Common Room.”

       “I know,” Harry said easily. “But I thought I would use this as an opportunity to let you know how things were going.”

       Luna’s grey eyes lit with excitement. “So what is happening?”

       Harry chuckled.  “At the moment, not much. But you might want to ask about how the Ministry’s detection devices are coming along.”

       “Detection devices?” Luna hadn’t heard anything about something like that.

       “Before Halloween, the Ministry had a fight against the Dark Lord in Diagon Alley. What they didn’t say was how they had detected him there. It wasn’t by chance, it was something else.”

       “This device?”

       Harry nodded. “Yep. I don’t know exactly what it is, or what it looks like but it works almost like the charm on our wands.”

       “So they detect magic?”

       “Not quite, they detect magical signatures.”

       “Oh…” Luna said then her eyes went wide as she understood. “ _Oh..!_ ”

       “Exactly. And do you really think the wizards understand?”

       “Not likely,” Luna agreed easily as they came to the corridor outside the Ravenclaw Common Room.

       “Then perhaps they need to be told of the consequences?”

       “Perhaps,” Luna agreed. “Is now a good time?”

       “Now is good enough,” Harry agreed. “I’m not sure when the Ministry is going to announce it, or even if they are going to bother. If they do announce it, it will come as some great thing to track Dark Wizards when in reality it will keep everyone in check.”

       “It’s worse than our wands,” Luna murmured as she continued to think.

       “How so?”

       “The tracking charm on our wands only activates if we use magic outside of school. If this tracks magical signatures, we don’t even have to do anything, just be in range.”

       “Well, they’ve got thousands, maybe a million of the devices,” Harry gave out the extra little bit of information.

       “I’ll make sure it’s published,” Luna said, stepping through the doorway.

       “I know you will,” Harry replied with a soft smile to wish her a good night.

       After the Ravenclaw Common Room door closed, Harry turned away and began walking back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hogwarts was quiet at night, almost peaceful though there was a sense of a watching presence, it wasn’t overt or intrusive. It was just the castle itself, making sure that its inhabitants were fine and Harry smiled, letting his magic reach out towards the stones beneath his feet to caress the old castle.  The pictures spied, the castle just checked and it was a difference Harry appreciated.

       As he began walking back the Shadows flickered around him. He would not be ambushed again like Draco had, ever. :Master, where did you find out about those devices?: They asked softly.

       Harry frowned as he cast his mind back, searching for the memory. He usually knew how he found out about things easily. Someone told him. It was simple. Yet as he searched through his mind, he could not find a conversation where someone told him. The Aurors had mentioned something that they had been working on with the Goblins, even the papers had said that but no one had specifically told him what that something was. Yet in his head he could see it, all glowing and rune etched and rather pretty, the device that had been developed to track magical signatures.

       He paused, sinking deeper into his mind as he tried to remember. The knowledge was there, it was so clear. It had been there since he read that article about them. He just knew what they were and what they did but he couldn’t recall how or where he had been told about them.

       Even for a wizard that wasn’t possible.

       He fought back a shiver. :How?:

       :Oh come on Master, it’s not that difficult.:

       Their playful tone calmed him down and he began thinking about it again. If no one had told him, not even the Aurors, though they had mentioned something, and the papers had only confirmed that the Goblins and Ministry were working on something, then how had he known? The Shadows hadn’t told him either. Who else… What else?

       He closed his eyes.

       He hadn’t been in contact with anyone else and this wasn’t something Dumbledore would have told him about.

       :Haven’t you?:

       “What?” Harry whispered.

       :Been in contact with people? What about Hogsmead?:

       “No one in Hogsmead even mentioned anything like that.” Harry had already gone over his memories of the day. They were disgustingly normal. Even his talk with the Werewolves that evening had been normal. There was only… :But I can’t have… I was only there for…: Harry’s eyes flew open as he realised the only possible place he could have gotten the information. And with the knowledge came the memory of his need. That particular aspect of his brief encounter with Voldemort’s mind had been suppressed and as soon as it manifested, he did it again. He could not indulge those feelings, not now, not with Fawkes actually checking in a bit more often. Something had happened… But Harry didn’t know what and he didn’t care. All he knew was that it made things difficult for him.

       Harry groaned, and began walking down the corridors again. He felt better now that he knew how he had found out the information, though he could feel his desire bubbling within him, deep within where the Phoenix couldn’t feel it. He would pay for that later, but for now it was necessary.

       :Luna will report them. I don’t know what the reaction will be.:

       :From some, it will be large, others won’t care. They won’t see the danger and some will never see the danger, they’ll accept it as their price to be safe, never realising that it means they can’t be free. But for some, safety is preferable to freedom.:

       Harry nodded. He had learned many years ago, that you could never assume that what you desired was what others desired. “Freedom,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. Oh he wanted it, and he _was_ going to get it.

       One way or another.


	38. There Will Be Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
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Weapon   
Chapter 38 There Will Be Consequences

The Dark Lord tapped long white fingers against the arm of his throne as he thought. _The_ _Prophet_ was boastful about Harry and some wench being together and the Shadows had explained the circumstances to him. He understood. He more than understood the situation his beloved found himself in… but he did not like it.

The bimbo was too close. She knew too much. He recognised her. How could he not recognise the red-haired witch he had entrusted with his blood? But while she was controlled then by her own desire, now he did not know. And that was worrying. More worrying was the fact that other witches might think they could touch Harry. The boy had not proclaimed this love for the harlot. Voldemort treasured the fact that Harry would not proclaim any tramp to be his beloved, but that fact left the green eyed wizard open to further pursuit by others. And with the play for the Order, that the floozy was meant to be the love of his mate's life the lack of proclamation could become problematic. It was difficult to know.

With a determined shake Voldemort brought his wandering thoughts back to the present. What did it matter? He snarled almost on reflex. It mattered. Harry was his and no one should dare to even think about touching him. The mechanics of the situation were not his problem, the situation was! But unlike the Order, or the Ministry he was a Dark Lord. He did not need to justify his actions and he could be far more elemental when dealing with these little… issues. The reasons he cared about. Just like directing chess pieces the reasons for the various movements were important but the action itself… This was definitely a case where he wanted to do something so he would. And the world should definitely hear this message.

"Bellatrix!" Voldemort called for the witch and was not surprised when she appeared quickly, stepping out from behind one of the pillars. It was almost scary her … devotion. But he could use it.

"My Lord!"

"I have a task for you."

===

Bellatrix laughed softly to herself as she crept through the thin dawn light. Just when she had been beginning to doubt her Lord, just when she wasn't sure, he had gone and given her an order of such absolute purity that it sent her shivering. The tone of his voice, the fire raging in his eyes and the sly smile creasing his lips… The witch quivered. In moments like that, standing under his gaze, she could never doubt.

But she did doubt. She could delude everyone else but she could not delude herself. It had been better in the past few weeks since Halloween but it had not been the same as the past. She didn't think it was her, or at least not entirely her but she couldn't actually put her finger on one thing that was causing her discomfort. The new ally was a part of it but not the entire thing and having watched them for a little while, Bellatrix was reluctant to admit that they did seem useful. She needed to talk to her Lord… truly talk to her Lord in a way she hadn't since… since before she became a Death Eater.

Back then he had been charming and their conversations stimulating. She had been attracted to his frank openness about his plans. It had been wonderful to talk to someone who, unlike the rest of her family, wasn't afraid to show his affiliation towards the Dark. Even once she became a Death Eater it had been good, he had been good. They hadn't had as many long conversations as before but the times they had spoken were memorable, even the way he gave orders. Bellatrix licked her lips as she remembered. It had been a glorious time… the fear, the blood, the sheer power they had all wielded just by their presence.

And then it had ended! All at the hands of a babe.

And now that babe was untouchable. Bellatrix understood, even agreed that Harry Potter was her Lord's kill but why did that mean that they couldn't Crucio him a little before delivering him? It wouldn't permanently damage him. But her Lord was adamant, and the darkness and the serpents behind and around him when he proclaimed that had been strong in their support, the snakes yellow eyes still haunted her with the flash of power they had shown.

She had recognised the look from old and knew what it meant. No matter how much she disagreed, disobedience would lead to death and so she silently raged against the order. There had been orders in the past she hadn't understood, hadn't agreed with but she had eventually seen their wisdom. This one… this one remained unfathomable. Why shouldn't they be able to hurt Harry Potter any way they could?

Which is why she was happy about this order. This order would hurt the brat. Not directly but Bellatrix well understood the insidious nature of emotional pain, of the way it crept under your defences, of the way it lingered and lurked, growing stronger so that when it struck, it would leave its victim a quivering mass of nothing. Unless you saw the collapse though, it somehow lacked the release she got from causing physical pain but she would take what she could get in this case. And besides, with her Lord claiming the brat's life, she would no doubt see his demise. It would be sweet, knowing that as he whimpered, as he begged, she had been a part of breaking him.

Bellatrix rose, twirling her wand as she looked down at the house. It was secluded and ramshackle and she could smell the magic in it. It was cloying. The usual wizarding spells for soundness, strength and against vermin were there but there was other magic thick on the house. Family magic, children… It stunk. Other places had the feel of family magic, but they had a certain elegance and refinement. The Black Manor as she was growing up was always tastefully understated but this… This was obscene and why anyone would want to call this hodge podge of stuck together rooms home she did not know. But someone did, many someone's did from the feel of the magic, all layered with their signatures and suddenly Bellatrix understood why this place was called 'The Burrow' on the Floo network. The family was poor, yet they breed like rabbits. It suited them that their house should be called an animal's hole.

With a determined flick of her wand she began drawing light wards before she brushed fire towards the top of the house interspersing the spells with little puffs of wind to fuel the flames. The point this time was simple. Fear could be created through death but fear could also be created through destruction. By proving that the Dark Forces could attack where they wanted and when they wanted and that no one, not even long serving members of the Order of the Phoenix were safe. Her mission today allowed for the possibility of escape, hence the light wards she had drawn, her desire allowed for the certainty of death. The one occupant she could feel would not get away.

===

Arthur had risen before dawn and had disappeared to the office. While usually Molly could have slept through that, she was used to rising early. This wasn't always a good thing. The house felt especially empty in the mornings when it was just her. Bill was off somewhere with Gringotts though he had indicated the possibility of a visit later in the year. Charlie was practically chained to a dragon in Romania. Percy was like Arthur in that he practically lived at the office, but he'd also rented a small apartment and so she only saw him on weekends. At the moment he was overseas on some Ministry business and Molly felt both proud and scared for her boy. The twins, those of the never quiet mornings had somehow found the money to start a business. Despite her nagging, they had never told her where or how they had gotten enough to do that. They simply assured her that the money had not been ill-gotten. For all their other faults, the twins were not liars and so while she remained suspicious, she accepted that. And Ron and Ginny were both at Hogwarts which was arguably the safest place to be with both Dumbledore and Harry there to defend it against attacks from the Dark Lord.

Molly shook her head to clear away such maudlin thoughts as she slowly brewed a pot of tea and sat down at the table to enjoy it. She should enjoy the mornings where she no longer had to rush around preparing eight breakfasts before even thinking about her own. But she missed it; the hustle and bustle and the laughter and noise. It had become a part of her. And she hoped it had become a part of her children on some level. It would stand them in good stead for the future.

As she sipped her tea, trying to enjoy the relative quiet, she noticed that the house was hot. Hotter than it should have been for a winter morning. And there was a soft crackling noise coming from one of the floors above her. She'd ignored it because of the ghoul but as Molly rose, her face turned upwards as if she could see through the floors she felt something cold flick through her body. The noise wasn't the ghoul. Almost instinctively she flicked a cold charm above her not even thinking of the irony of casting that when it was snowy outside.

If anything the heat became more intense and as Molly mounted the stairs she was driven back by a wave of superhot air. _Fire!_ The thought screamed its way through her mind and she began casting cold charms in earnest, not really caring where she was aiming but generally above her. The soft crackling was becoming louder and she could feel the house groan under the pressure of the heat.

It wasn't until she tried the version of the flame freezing charm that was for inanimate objects and she felt the magic ricocheted back to her that Molly realised the fire must be deliberately lit. Molly Weasley was known as a sentimental woman, but she was also sensible. Seven children had given her a practical streak a mile wide and the instant she knew the fire was deliberately lit, she gave up the fight for the house. Deliberately lit meant an attack, and an attack meant more power than she alone would be able to stop. Instead she bustled down the stairs intent on floo-ing to the Hogwarts and the Order. If they got here quickly enough, they might be able to catch the Death Eaters in the act.

Calmly she re-entered the kitchen, casting a last lingering look around. They would rebuild but you had to be alive to rebuilt. She reached out to the floo powder jar and threw a generous handful into the small flames of the kitchen hearth. She waited for the flames to bulge and turn green but nothing happened. Another handful went into the flames and Molly fought back a rising sense of fear. Again nothing happened and the powder dusted over the wood, giving it a sparkling coating that threatened to extinguish the small fire there.

Molly shook her head to focus and thought about Hogsmead, focusing on appariting. She didn't like apparition but she was perfectly capable of doing it. Focused as she was, she felt her magic surge through her body before reaching out, the way it did for apparition, seeking a lock on the destination. That sort of thing was usually close to instantaneous so you never really noticed it with the wild spinning sensation that usually accompanied apparition, but as her magic found nothing to lock on to, Molly became aware of how strong the line was. It barely extended anywhere and instinctively she sent her mind along the path of her magic. Anti-apparition wards loomed before her and she hissed.

Outside Bellatrix chuckled, feeling the aborted impact of floo and apparition against her wards. She flicked more fire towards the hole, this time towards the door. In as much as she would have liked to see the panic and pain in their eyes, allowing them access to the door would be too close to the wards. They might escape, and her Lord had said she may kill, and she intended to do just that. It had been too long since she had felt the searing joy that came with that expression of power. The ultimate expression of power and she intended to savour it.

Anti-apparition wards and the floo had been disabled somehow. Molly assessed the information. That was a standard Death Eater attack routine. She might be stronger than the caster, but there was likely to be a few. Death Eater's seldom attacked alone so while she might have been able to over whelm the wards, the chances were unlikely. Which meant she needed help. As the kitchen grew hotter and she listened to the noise upstairs, Molly's thoughts were clear. Gently she raised her wand and summoned her patronus. Death Eater's seldom raised the wards that affected patroni from running around but she already knew that even moving at the fastest pace, her patronus could not reach help in time. Still, she had to try.

Once the silvery form was away she looked with sharp brown eyes around the kitchen. The flame freezing charm may have been blocked but that block could not stop her casting it on herself. That was internal magic, much like the animagus transformation which could not be blocked easily and Molly doubted that the Death Eaters would have bothered to raise that type of ward. They were invasive and difficult and frankly, unless you knew your opponent was an animagus or especially skilled at wandless magic, you didn't bother with them. So that was the first order of business and she raised her wand with a purpose.

Next she cast her eyes to the ceiling. Above she could hear the crackling of the fire and she could feel the heat. She could also dully hear the thump of items as they crashed into the floors above. The flames and the heat would not bother her. No, the trap here was suffocation or blunt force injury as the house collapsed around her. She had her magic and already Molly was casting what charms she could to re-enforce the structures. She thought briefly about trying to make it to the door, and into the garden outside, but in her estimation the likelihood of death increased. Outside, she'd make a very easy target for an Avada Kedravra spell. Inside, the heat and smoke and debris would be difficult, but at least she had a chance.

With a determined flick of her wand, Molly extinguished the small kitchen fire and cleared out the hearth. Then she settled herself into it, pulling herself into the opening as much as she could and casting every protection charm she could think of, including the bubblehead charm as the room began to fill with smoke. This wouldn't guarantee survival but it was her best chance.

===

Remus rested his chin on his hands as he looked over the room. Chained in the corner, like a dog, was one Wilbur O'Haresh. The slightly portly wizard was staring up over Remus' shoulder which was not too bad on sensing direction given that a conjunctivitis curse had been applied to his eyes and they were milky white. The wizard's glare was fearful, though it still held defiance. Lupin's gaze was hard and he was looking at more than the wizard.

The discussion with Harry… No, the Shadow Lord, the Werewolf Pack Leader corrected his thoughts. He couldn't get into the habit of thinking of Harry his ally. The Shadow Lord was the Werewolves Ally, and that was all the answer anyone would get, and only after the pain of torture. The discussion at The Hogs Head had gone well. The deal had been done in the Forbidden Forest when the Shadow Lord had given them his Blood in the Oath but the discussion at The Hogs Head had been fruitful. It had worked out how they could make many of the agreements actually work in reality.

Remus felt it had been an educational meeting for all concerned. Razorclaw had seen how much the Shadows had already thought about the mechanics of their agreement, when the Lord offered some very practical solutions to some of the obvious problems. And the Shadow Lord had seen that the Werewolves were willing to work beyond the bounds of the agreement, where it was in their best interests.

Instruction had gone out to the Packs that they were to maintain neutrality. And that was all. No further details were given. They were maintaining neutrality because it was the new Pack Leader's desire though there had been hints in the instructions that anyone needing help, just had to step forward. In that manner, Remus promised to be one of the more benevolent Pack Leaders. Even if the alms he gave were not his own.

So, they had worked out how to distribute Wolfsbane and that operation would no doubt grow over time. They'd worked out how to put the charm on the Werewolves, though that would not be for a few months and would be done in a batch. It had been worked out how to pass money to various Pack Leaders if it was required and the Shadow Lord had told them of the Laws he intended to put in place, and the amount of time he required to do that.

It had been a very profitable evening and it had settled the lingering doubts of Talon and Razorclaw nicely. There would be future meetings, just not soon. In all likelihood, not every Pack Leader would need to be there in future either. That should make gathering less dangerous. Remus could not forget the Vampires. They may not show it, but they were no doubt looking for a way of striking at the Werewolves. Nor did Remus forget about his personal safety. He had told an Elder Vampire that he was the Pack Leader of the Isles. He had told the Ministry that, though they may not have realised the implications of that. He would be vigilant.

The ending of the meeting is what was concerning Remus now. There had been one further section of the agreement that no one had brought up. Lupin was no expert at law but he rather wryly figured that if the Shadow Lord had decided to 'forget' that part of the agreement then the Werewolves had no claim upon it. Before the Oath it had only been mentioned as a selling point, but it had not been included in the discussion in the Forbidden Forest, so it could be legitimately claimed that it was not part of their final agreement.

Until the Shadow Lord voluntarily included it.

Which is what lead Remus to be here, staring at the werewolves' prisoner, Wilbur O'Haresh. It had almost been comical, the way the five gathered pack leaders had been at a loss when the Shadow Lord had presented the man. None of them knew who he was, but once his name was announced, they knew. Razorclaw had snarled, almost wanting to bite the man even in his human form but Remus had cautioned against it. He didn't quite know what he wanted to do with the reporter.

The man had reported on Gideon, one of the Werewolves whose loyalty was firmly with the Dark Lord… But Gideon had been freed, by the Shadow Lord… and that was not something the Ministry was being very forthcoming about. Given that Gideon had been freed, it didn't seem right to bite O'Haresh… but that left the question of what to do with him. They could not free him.

Remus sighed. Razerclaw and Talon had been pleased with the gift from the Shadow Lord and if Lupin was honest with himself, he could see Harry's logic. But _he_ was the one who had to deal with the mess now.

"So why did you do it?" Remus asked eventually and the instant he spoke he realised the question was not correct. It should not be why, it should be how. _Who_ had tipped off O'Haresh that Gideon was a werewolf in the first place, let alone one loyal to the Lord Voldemort. O'Haresh was the economics reporter… He just didn't… shouldn't have that type of knowledge and even Elliot couldn't tell Remus how the man had exposed Gideon.

"Do what?"

"Gideon Prayleor," Lupin said, knowing the name should be explanation enough.

"So, you some sort of do gooder who believes in equality for animals?" The reporter snapped.

Even though he couldn't see it, Remus smiled gently. "Not at all," he replied and his smile tightened into a grin when the wizard before him relaxed slightly. "I'm the Pack Leader of _all_ the Werewolves on the Isles."

The silence was almost palatable.

"Oh come now," Remus said, sitting back in his chair comfortably as he imagined how Sirius would handle this. The man could be positively cruel when he put his mind to it and it was that aspect Lupin needed now. "You don't think werewolves existed without some sort of organisation? If we did, then you wizards would have wiped us out long ago."

"…" Even with his sharp hearing Remus couldn't make out the words.

"What was that? It's impolite to mumble and you are a journalist! You are meant to speak clearly!"

"Animal!"

"Oh, that's not very nice," Remus chided. He wasn't usually the vindictive type, the one who rubbed in their victory. That was more Sirius' thing but he had spent a long time watching the canine animagus so he was more than capable of acting the part. "Really, all I want to know from you is one thing. I want to know who tipped you off about Gideon?"

"I don't know!"

"Protecting them won't help you."

"I'm not protecting them."

"Then tell me."

"I can't tell you because I don't know who it was," Wilbur said with exaggerated patience and Remus rather imagined the man would be rolling his eyes if he could.

"So you published on a tip from an unknown source, which was potentially a lie?" Remus asked the question, making sure his voice was laced with skepticism.

"The tip came with proof."

"Oh?"

"It included his Death Eater mask."

"I always knew _The Prophet_ was a moronic paper," Remus muttered, not bothering to temper his words. "A Death Eater's mask is so much proof," he added.

"So what are you going to do?"

Lupin considered the question. That really was the central consideration for the moment. What _was_ he going to do with a prisoner? "Half the packs want to bite you and then dump you somewhere, without the support of the rest of us. That would be… just punishment, I must admit. But it is not the way we are and would only re-enforce everything bad about us. I suppose I could just apply a memory charm and let you go, but then that would disappoint the one who fetched you for us."

"Who was that?"

"An ally," Remus said easily. "You are a gift, Wilbur, from our ally to the Werewolves as a whole. And it would not do for me to reject that gift, not when I'm sure they went to a lot of trouble to secure you." Actually Lupin wasn't sure about that last bit. Harry didn't say but it didn't matter.

There was silence for a few moments as Remus thought before he sighed. "Here's what I'm going to do Wilbur. You are going to be bitten. I think that's a fitting punishment. I might even let Gideon do it but you won't remember who did it. Oh, don't worry about the reaction of your co-workers or the Ministry. They aren't going to know anything. To them, you've already disappeared."

"I won't remain hidden," Wilbur spat with conviction. "I'll report you."

"No, you won't," Lupin replied. "You know exactly how werewolves are treated. Oh… I agree there will be a bit of outrage that you were bitten, but then the outrage will fade and you will be outcast. I'm sure you know what happens to Werewolves… but you haven't really experienced it. If you go back, you will first hand and I guarantee it will be an experience you will not enjoy. You will be much better off accepting the arrangements I make."

That seemed to silence the reporter for a moment, then he tried a new method. "My friends will look for me."

"Ha!" the Pack Leader of the Isles laughed. "What friends? You know as well as I do that you only have acquaintances that care very little for you. Now you can of course go back to the Ministry if you want. I'm not going to be in such a position that I have you watched very day but I would advise you to accept the Pack I ask to help you."

"So I'm just meant to put up with whatever you decide."

"I _am_ the Werewolves' Leader, and by that stage you will be a werewolf, and while we aren't like vampires, in that you are not obliged to obey me, I would advise that you do not go against the arrangements I make. The Ministry, _The Prophet_ , and wizards in general aren't accepting of werewolves."

"You wouldn't dare?"

Remus grinned. Oh the number of responses Sirius' could have given to that… He was a bit more limited but he could answer well enough. "Who's going to stop me?" That said Lupin rose and took the few steps towards their prisoner. He reached out one hand and gently patted the blind Wilbur by way of parting before he walked out the door. Remus still wasn't truly happy with having a prisoner, but if they had one, then he would fulfill his duties as the Pack Leader, both the good and the bad duties.

===

In the Slytherin dressing rooms, Draco sat alone as he pulled on his boots. The team didn't like him, but he was still the best Seeker in Slytherin and no matter what they thought, they were competitive enough that they wanted to win. That meant going with the best, so he was still on the team. And they mostly opted to ignore him when they weren't on the field. It was a slap in the face but with everything else that had happened, it suited him fine.

In the days since he broke that Gryffindork's charm, Draco had been trying to contact the vampires to tell them that he _knew_ what they knew. But they were conspicuous with their absence where before Halloween they had been conspicuous with their presence. The difference was frustrating. He consoled himself with the thought that once they were working together, things should move much more quickly. And they would be at this game. The chance to openly watch the supposed Light Golden Boy would be too much for them to pass up. Especially with the knowledge they shared.

There _had_ to be a way to trip the Gryffindork up. But in the two weeks since he'd freed his memories and could act on the truth, while Draco had watched Potter closely, the boy had not put so much as a hair out of place. It made no sense. _No one_ was that good an actor! Were they?

Yet Potter had to be. Draco had seen the evidence of that himself. He paused, running one hand through his hair before he picked up a green Slytherin cap. It would not do for him not to see the Snitch because of his wayward hair. Once dressed Draco sat for a few moments, his grey eyes half closed as he considered what he needed to do. So… Potter was that good an actor. The Phoenix and therefore the Order and Ministry were completely fooled. They had no idea of the snake they had taken to their bosom. If the Malfoy's were still loyal to the Serpent Lord, Draco would have appreciated the sheer _Slytherinness_ of the plan… Probably… Maybe… Argh! Since it involved Potter he didn't know. But right at the moment while he didn't like the thought of helping the Light he had no choice. If the Serpent Lord won, then there would be nothing left to fight which meant he had to somehow expose their precious saviour.

How?

That was the question.

With a huff Draco stood. He most likely couldn't do it today. Quidditch was quidditch and the war didn't enter into it. But he could use the game to test the Gryffindork. Ever since they'd duelled in second year he had wanted to truly know who was the strongest, who was the best. Thanks to his Mother he had enough skill and power to fight without alerting those watching the game. Potter was hailed as the Golden Boy, he should have at least that much skill and Draco would test it today. Once he knew the Gryffindor's power and more importantly his weaknesses, then he could prepare a proper plan to expose the traitor.

And that would be a very happy day!

===

"I want a good clean game!" Madam Hooch shouted up at the two teams that hovered in the air, the two captains were hovering lower on either side of her. They had shaken hands earlier and Rolanda had not missed the way they had tested each other. Boy's would be boys no matter what happened, yet there was somewhat of a grim cast to her smile when she released the bludgers and snitch a moment before she threw the quaffle into the air.

There was the usual mad scramble before one of the chasers flew off with the quaffle and the others were left to follow. While Harry usually liked to be in the thick of it, for this game he had risen high above the scrum and was flitting back and forth as he searched for the snitch. Syltherin's Seeker had done the same and Madam Hooch turned her attention away from them. The shenanigans of the main team gave her more than enough to focus on.

She really should have taken the time to recall the history between the two Seekers. Publically, there was nothing but the entire Hogwart's community knew the animosity between them.

===

Harry flew above the game. In the past he'd liked to speed through the play to help out the Gryffindor chasers but his new team weren't ready for that. Oh, they were getting there. The practices he'd put them though, in any weather was ensuring that but while they played well there was still a rawness in the way they flew that was detectable to the experienced eye. They needed more practice and he would make sure they got that practice.

Draco was flying with him but he didn't think that was unusual. The Slytherin had been following him for the last two weeks and there was really only one reason that would be. The boy had broken his charm but then he'd found out exactly how trapped he was in the existing situations. Draco was easy to predict. He wanted power. And he wanted to be the focus on that power. Harry almost grinned. Too easy. His linearity was almost refreshing in the face of the Order, the vampires and everything else that was going on.

Still Harry kept an eye on him. The boy was likely to do something stupid and Harry didn't seen some fool stunt to leave him having to make up yet more excuses.

It was not surprising then when Harry felt a charm in the air. Deftly he dodged, making the flick of his broom look random. He didn't even look up towards the blond. So this was the game Draco wanted to play? Wordless magic with all visual effects suppressed? It showed skill beyond what he thought Draco was capable of but it was hardly original and two could play that game. The blond had his wand strapped to his arm. Harry had his, but it was tucked into the small of his back. He didn't really need it and used it now mostly for fiddly, delicate work but it was close enough for him to use.

Most wizards and witches worked out _sometime_ during their life that precise wand movements were not necessary. Especially on charms they used every day. Magic really relied on will, intent and focus. So long as those three elements were present, it would work. That's why wandless magic as children worked. It was usually unconsciously directed, but that didn't make the will or the focus any the less. Take one of his examples of wandless magic, when he'd let the snake out at the zoo. His intent had not been precisely to let the snake out, but the will and the focus were still there and there was enough of an intent that his magic had reacted. When you focused that and had the strength, greater things were possible. Draco had no doubt picked that up over the summer.

Still looking around for the Snitch, Harry smiled. What else had Draco learned over the summer? And was it him who had killed Xir? The assumption that both the Dark Lord and Harry had made was that it had been Narcissa… but what if it was Draco? Harry kept the frown from his face as he internalised the debate, pushing it down into his subconscious. Did it matter? Xir was dead.

Harry kept dodging as Draco cast further spells. He cast one eye up to the Slytherin with a small smile. It let Draco know that Harry knew what he was doing. The angry glint that flashed through grey eyes made it all worth it and Harry resisted the urge to laugh.

He could play this game, but he had to be careful with the Phoenix watching. It wouldn't be that unusual for him to take the challenge offered by Draco and while he had all the Dark Lord's ability at spell casting, Fawkes would get suspicious if he was too causal in using that knowledge. So dodging was the best alternative. Besides, it would play into the idea that he did not take Draco seriously and that they were just boys playing. That was a stupid notion. They had ceased being boys years back and it was time the Phoenix and Headmaster realised that.

:Don't do anything stupid,: the Shadow's warned suddenly and Harry took that to mean that the Phoenix was paying attention.

:Never,: he replied, keeping his voice light and happy. Draco cast another few charms which Harry adroitly dodged before he sent his broom into a dive. The blond boy cried out and followed. Regardless of what else was happening, they were playing a Quidditch game and catching the snitch was their job. Draco couldn't see the snitch but the way Harry was moving, he assumed the other boy did.

Down Harry plunged, gaining speed each second and he resisted the urge to laugh in sheer joy. He could fly himself, but there was something about riding his broom. It was the transient feel of freedom that he loved and he embraced it with all his heart. He felt the Phoenix respond. The feeling of joy was shared by the Phoenix and for a moment their hearts connected. Harry felt … Harry felt the same way as he had in the Chamber of Secrets, peaceful and courageous all at once. It was beautifully calming and inwardly he smiled at Fawkes. There was no use in denying what he felt.

He'd learned to live in the present. He'd spent too much of his childhood living in the future, imagining a time when he could get away. Even in his early years at Hogwarts, he'd spent too much time either thinking back to the past or again imagining what could be. It had taken a great deal of pain for him to learn to live in the present and to enjoy the simple things that life offered. Near freefall on a broom was just one of the things he could enjoy now.

Draco followed close behind him, but Harry was the better flier. Still he slowed down a little, allowing Draco to follow him closely. He needed the blond Slytherin to be right on his tail for this to work. Harry grinned when they flashed through the play, scattering both team's chasers in their wild descent.

When Harry automatically jinxed out the way of another hex he realised that Draco had put the game second to fighting him. It brought a chill little smile to his face even as he plummeted to the ground and the little jinx brought Draco enough time to catch up. His pale grey eyes were alight with fierce joy and Harry suppressed a chuckle as he realised the blond thought that flying parallel meant that he couldn't miss on his spells.

Time to teach a Slytherin what it meant to be a seeker.

Without warning Harry jerked his broom up in an almost perfect ninety degree turn. Draco wasn't so lucky and there wasn't even time for a startled cry before he ploughed into the ground. The spray of dirt was impressive. Hogwarts deliberately kept the Quidditch pitch turf rather soft, even in winter when the ground should freeze, simply for these occasions.

"By Merlin! That was a perfect Wronski Feint by Gryffindor's Seeker, Harry Potter!" Harry dimly heard the commentary over the screams of excitement from the gathered students as he pulled his broom up, shouting his own instructions to his team as he resumed his place above the play. There was a smug little grin on his face as he kept one eye on Draco even while he continued to search for the snitch. "You won't see that executed so well very often, even in professional Quidditch!" The commentator was gushing, completely oblivious to the fact that it was possible that Draco had injured himself quite severely.

The pale blond Slytherin wasn't injured but he'd definitely knocked himself around. Harry watched as he slowly rose from the middle of the rather impressive spray of dirt. Draco was covered in it and his green and silver Slytherin uniform looked blotchy. There were places that were completely covered in mud and there were others where his uniform looked like some spotted birds egg. There was a bit of pain in his movements, but to Harry's expert eye he could see no broken bones. After brushing himself off which consisted of mostly smearing the mud further over his robes, Draco reached again for his broom and Harry couldn't hold back a chuckle as the other boy realised it was stuck. The handle was wedged into the ground making the entire thing stand up and it was quivering as the magic reacted.

Merlin that was funny! And Harry wasn't the only one to think so if the gathering swell of tittering coming from the audience was anything to go by. Winter games of Quidditch usually attracted only the most hard core of the school's Quidditch fans, but a game between Gryffindor and Slytherin was always an event so was always well attended, so most of the school was watching as Draco ineffectually pulled at his broom, trying to work it free. Those who weren't watching, would know by tea-time. No doubt the grey eyed boy could hear the laughter as well and Harry could only imagine the roiling angry thoughts that the Slytherin was probably entertaining.

Good! It would make the prat amenable to his suggestion. Below, the play of the chasers and beaters continued and while Harry couldn't make out the words, he could tell that the Slytherin team was more than a little frustrated. Not with him, which was something of a miracle, but with their Seeker and Harry shivered involuntarily. The black haired boy knew how to react to bullying, he'd had much more practice than anyone should, though he rather imagined the next few weeks were going to be very difficult for Draco. Somehow, he didn't feel much sympathy.

Eventually, Draco worked his broom free. After all the ground was relatively soft and while there was still a bit of pain in the way he moved, the blond flew again, coming to a halt near where Harry still hovered.

"Have fun, Malfoy?" Harry asked with a sly smirk.

"Piss off Potter."

Oh, Draco really was worked up and Harry allowed a tiny cackle to slip past his lips. The snarl that greeted it was a bit of a surprise. Imagine that, Draco Malfoy, the perfect scion of the House of Malfoy, snarling in such an unrefined way. Why, the noise was almost animalistic!

"Look, Malfoy," Harry said, his voice serious and both green eyes speared into grey. "We're playing Quidditch here, not silent duels. If you want to duel me, that's fine, I'll duel you, _if_ you actually show up this time."

Grey eyes widened in surprise and Harry took that as a signal to continue.

"Midnight, here," he gestured towards the Quidditch Pitch. "Plenty of space for us to really cut loose with charms so that you can't complain it wasn't fair territory. No seconds, no thirds, no one else. Just you and me Draco," he drawled the boy's name, "if you have the guts." Harry couldn't resist adding that last little jab.

There was a few moments of silence before the blond snarled again and this time Harry recognised words. "You're on." Draco barely got the words out before he turned away, moving forcefully to the other side of the Quidditch pitch to start his duties as Seeker.

Harry giggled to himself. Oh, this could be fun! And the best thing was, he could pass it off as youthful exuberance! Though he did intend to leave Draco bleeding on the ground it could be enlightening to see the extent of the boy's power. Heh, Xeoaph should thank him for this actually since no doubt the blond had been studiously avoiding the vampire to avoid the transference of what was no doubt a rather hefty debt left by his father. Broken and bleeding was not dead, and the debt could still be paid.

He turned his attention back to the game, watching as the chasers and beaters worked together. The scores were about even which Harry was thankful for. The Gryffindor team had seemed to take heart at his antics and were playing harder and faster than he'd seen them play before. Even Ron at the goal somehow looked more alert. In contrast the Slytherin team almost looked dull. Granted, the green and silver of their uniforms blended with the landscape more, the green merging with the grass and trees around and the silver with the overcast sky but they could at least be a bit more perky about playing. It's not like they liked Draco any more than he did, especially if Millicent's reports were to be believed.

Oh well… Harry didn't have to understand them to beat them. Nor did his team. They weren't quite up to the rate of scoring he'd like, though that could be because the Slytherin keeper actually seemed to be doing a decent job but they were working on it. Besides, he wouldn't say no to a three to two scoring ratio, especially when goals were rather hard to come by as evidenced by the score. After an hour of play 70:50, Gryffindor favour was not a great score-line. Maybe he should haze the Slytherin Keeper?

Black tresses shook denial after a moment. There was no real point and the game was going okay, especially when Ginny did an odd little broom flick and managed to pitch the quaffle under the Slytherin Keepers arm, straight through the centre goal. The scoring ding of magic sounded out on the pitch and Harry grinned. He did so love that sound. Green eyes met Ginny's blue, just for a moment in celebration and in that gaze he sent his congratulations to her, not missing the way Ginny blushed lightly at his attention. It was sweet and cute and everything an adolescent teen should be. In the depths of his mind, it made him feel sick. He didn't need cute and sweet, he wanted mature and understanding. He had mature and understanding and Ginny was a pale second.

The phoenix felt none of that. All Fawkes saw was a tender moment between young lovers and even though Harry would gag over this later, he intended to enhance that perception, going all out now that his relationship with the young Weasley girl was in the open. Or however one of the papers had said so quaintly.

Harry snorted to himself, focusing on trying to find the snitch, though he did spare a moment to examine the team. The Gryffindor beaters were keeping the bludgers away from the team admirably. Ron was doing a pretty good job as Keeper, though he had room to improve. The Chasers were working together reasonably well but they weren't quite a team. There was still some individual glory seeking there that they would have to lose in order to really be competitive. After another hour of flitting back and forth, Harry had had enough of the game. It had only been two and a half hours but it was long enough. He could almost sense time passing and the things he needed to be organising. It was time to end this and while he could have the Shadow's find the Snitch, that was hardly sporting. Instead he sharpened his senses, sweeping his eyes over the field, methodically quartering it as he searched for the snitch.

Draco was doing something similar. Every Seeker had their own methods for tracking down the snitch but no matter what method you used, it was partially a matter of luck. When the end of the game came, it was rather anticlimactic. Harry spotted the snitch and swooped in to retrieve it. The small golden ball almost seemed happy to be caught because it didn't dodge or weave to avoid capture as much as it usually did. As the chime to signal the capture of the Snitch sounded, Harry looked back up at Draco, only to find that the Slytherin had been focusing his attention, almost completely, on another area of the field. The blond wasn't even aware that Harry had found the Snitch and between the grin he gave the other boy, Harry mouthed 'Tonight' and was rewarded with an icy glare accompanied by the merest nod of Draco's head.

His appointment confirmed, Harry grinned, holding the Snitch aloft and swooping down to meet the jubilant cries of the rest of the team. All Quidditch victories were celebrated but a victory against Slytherin was always accompanied by an extra jubilant party from Gryffindor. Their traditional rivalry demanded no less. But Harry wasn't quite ready to accept their midair embraces but rather that pull away he showed them why he was the Seeker, dodging through them all until his broom was side by side with Ginny. Then his team miraculously understood and backed away a little.

With a flourish Harry presented the snitch to Ginny, allowing his green eyes to shine and a soft smile to crease his features. The Gryffindor team cooed, a sentiment that was taken up by the gathered students and Ginny blushed as red as her hair, but she accepted the snitch, returning his gentle smile with her blue eyes alight.

Fawkes fled from his mind which Harry took as a sign of everything that was wrong with the Phoenix. This was a scene the bird should be looking upon with an expression akin to those of the adult witches and wizards that were here. That look of indulgent understanding, because they'd seen it all before, but were touched by the display of innocent young love every time. That's what the phoenix should have felt, and if the bird had of been feeling that, then Harry would be having a much harder time steeling his heart for what he would do.

"Thank you, Harry!" Ginny finally managed to whisper and Harry allowed his smile to turn into a rare grin.

"You're welcome," he replied, leaning over, heedless of the empty space beneath them to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. If anything Ginny blushed harder and he pulled back with a little chuckle. She matched her uniform now. If he'd been in the situation, rather than it's orchestrator he'd been blushing for all he was worth as well, but perhaps being the centre of attention for all his wizarding life had desensitised him a bit.

"Urgh, break it up," the denouncement didn't come from Draco but the sentiment could have and the Gryffindor team parted to see the Slytherin Captain hovering at a short distance from them.

Harry didn't know them. They were a seventh year but it didn't matter. Most likely the instant they graduated, the Dark Lord would be testing the boy for a position. That was going to be an interesting time. The green-eyed Gryffindor Captain though nodded, affably, not showing offence which was pretty much what he thought they expected as he nudged his broom through the gathered team to where the Slytherin Captain hovered. He stuck out his hand. Hogwart's tradition required that the two captains shake on the result of the game. It was based on some nonsense of sportsmanship and school harmony, though Harry privately thought the tradition had most likely come about in a time when Slytherin were winning and was the result of their desire to rub it in. Oh how the tables turned.

There was the merest touch on his palm before the Slytherin Captain sent one final glare at him and veered away, landing and quickly packing up. Which was what the Gryffindor team should be doing. They had celebrations in the tower to enjoy.

Harry grinned. With the Twin's gone, enough Gryffindors had stepped up to the void left by the two Weasleys and for all celebrations there was more than an ample supply of butterbeer and other goodies! It made celebrations in the tower something to enjoy and he looked forward to it as he let his broom drop to land with a light touch down.

"What was the final score anyway?" He asked when he landed. He genuinely hadn't been paying that much attention.

"Three twenty to one thirty," came the drawling smug reply to his question from a variety of voices. Harry couldn't tell who answered because there were too many smirking faces around him. That was a good score line for a team that was new. Imperceptibly Harry frowned. That meant in the second part of the game Slytherin had gotten better while Gryffindor got worse! He'd have to work on that, because a victory made impressive by him catching the snitch was not much of a victory at all.

But that was tomorrow's task, along with a myriad of other things. For now, he could and was expected to indulge in a bit of celebration.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley," the voice belonged to Professor McGonagall and Harry wasn't the only one confused. Usually she appeared early in the celebrations in the tower to congratulate them and then left, knowing full well that what she didn't see, she couldn't punish for. This was highly unusual. "Your presence is required in the Headmaster's office." There was a chill little note in her voice that caught the gathered crowd's attention.

Harry looked at the feline animagus sharply. She looked as she usually did, straight laced and proper. There was something going on, however she was experienced enough to hide it. But Harry had more sources of information than they had eyes. :What happened?:

:There was an attack.:

Strangely the Shadows seemed almost reluctant to speak.

:I gathered that,: Harry retorted as he watched Ron and Ginny separate themselves from the gathered Gryffindors and head up to the castle in a fast trot. Minerva had looked around but wouldn't meet his eyes, before she turned to follow them. That only made the growing sense of worry greater.

:On the Burrow.:

Harry gasped sharply at that. :Who?: He demanded. He knew who attacked, maybe not exactly but it didn't matter which Death Eater it was, it mattered now who had been home.

:Molly.:

And just like that, it all came crashing down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be really happy if people supported my original work :) (Link in starting note) and I will try to update this again but I don't guarantee it.


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